


^•^ ^«„ .0.^ .'^%#A '„ % ^# 



6 Q. 



%<.^^ .^ 






'"^^ 






' <= r 










^^0^ 






^' % 



<f 



-■^ 



^^0^ 



^^0^ 




V- <a c:> * 



.<(? % 



















y^^. 




"^^^^ 




?5 o^ 












n^-d* 



.<^°^ = 



CX * 




jj^ %> 













9d/^o 










^<< 
















/ 










-^ ^ '^ ^ ^^ " -i ■ajy 




^^^ ^^^.K^^ - 

V V 









.^^ 









,^ ^^ 



% '^ :.. -^ \/ 9./V ,^^ v/ 










^.<<^ 











— Golclwin Smitn publishes in the Canadian 
Month'y an artiole ou "The Immcrf.alit3r of the Soul," ia 
•ftrhich he bolds that there is no absolute proof of a 
future slate, but, in the absence of anything to the cob- 
''XxdiTj, we are bound to accept the great mass of eyj- 
deuce which malces a future life an extreme proba- 
bility. ^ 



London: 
printed by s. and r. bentley, dorset street. 



IMMORTALITY 



ANNIHILATION? 



THE QUESTION 



FUTURE STATE 

. DISCUSSED AND DECIDED BY THE 

ARGUMENTS OF REASON^^^ ^^'j^ 



LONDON: 

TREUTTEL & WURTZ, TREUTTEL JUN. & RICHTER, 
SOHO SQUARE. 

1827. 



^■^'^X 

(^6^ 



INTRODUCTION. 



In the county of B died not long since a 

private gentleman, who had not advanced beyond 
the middle term of life, and who left behind him a 
manuscript on the subject of a Future State ; the 
first portion of which, forming a complete work in 
itself, is here submitted to the Public. 

The writer was indebted to his father not only 
for a good estate, but also for an excellent educa- 
tion. It was not long before he was universally 
acknowledged to be a young man possessing supe- 
rior qualities both of head and heart. Initiated 
by his teachers into the belief in revealed religion, 
he lived content in this faith till he became his 
own master, and could read what books he pleased. 
Doubts then arose in his mind. His faith in reve- 
lation was shaken, and with it his conviction of the 
first truths. If he had hitherto needed no other 
evidence of them than the idea: The Bible sai/s 
so — now, that this idea had lost all force with 



VI INTRODUCTION. 

him, he suddenly found himself completely for- 
lorn, and was like a man whose house, in which 
he has dwelt in comfort and security, is swallowed 
up before his face, together with the ground it 
stands on. 

From this period he had to contend with the 
most painful of all uncertainties in regard to his 
future destination. The intimations of Christian 
revelation on this subject had ever been considered 
by him as the finest portion of the Bible ; and his 
heart therefore bled when he found that he could 
no longer derive from it that satisfaction which 
he had formerly done. Philosophers had robbed 
him of his peace of mind — of philosophers he 
demanded it again. He read every work con- 
nected with this to him most important subject, 
but finding that what one author gave him another 
was sure to take away, he shut up all his books, 
and resolved himself to institute an inquiry con- 
cerning that point on which every thing seemed 
to him to depend. For this investigation he pre- 
pared himself in the most solemn manner at the 
grave of his father, and vowed not to desist till 
his mind had arrived at full conviction. To this 
period he deferred all other concerns: nor would 
he think of forming any plan for his life, till he 
had satisfied himself — whether there is a future 
state after death or not. 

During the whole time that he was engaged in 



INTRODUCTION. VU 

this investigation his temper was extremely un- 
equal. Sometimes he was like a man whose every 
wish is gratified ; at others he resembled one who 
is bereft of his all. Those about him erroneously 
attributed these extraordinary variations to mere 
caprice. At length this state ceased ; a settled 
serenity succeeded, and became the permanent 
characteristic of his disposition. 

Convinced of his everlasting continuance in the 
rank of thinking beings, the young philosopher 
now laid down, in conformity with this conviction, 
a plan for his future life, and appeared in a totally 
altered character. He who could not before be 
induced to attend to any business, or to form any 
connections, now displayed indefatigable activity 
in every pursuit calculated to promote the welfare 
of his fellow-creatures, contracted friendships and 
intimacies with the wise and the good, opened his 
heart to love, and founded a domestic society, the 
enviable happiness of which was entirely his work. 
He was seen to seek pleasures with avidity ; but 
such pleasures only as are worthy of a being des- 
tined to immortality, and as he could share with 
others. If misfortune befel him he bore it with 
manly resignation, and taught his family to imi- 
tate his example. The unexpected discovery 
which he had occasion to make, that he should 
riot be long-lived, disturbed not his serenity. On 
the contrary, when he perceived that death was 



VIll INTRODUCTION. 

approaching, he became every day more cheerful. 
In this tone of mind he continued to the very 
last, when he assembled his family about him, 
blessed them with a smile, and expired with the 
words, " / am only going before you; we shall 
meet again r 

At a time when the spirit of inquiry is daily 
becoming more general, it is not improbable that 
the minds of many may be assailed by the same 
doubts that shook the religious faith of the writer 
of the following pages. The Editor firmly be- 
lieves that in such the series of meditations which 
carried conviction to his bosom cannot fail to pro- 
duce equally happy results. Though the argu- 
ments here advanced and the conclusions drawn 
from them may be confidently expected to exer- 
cise this salutary influence on persons of all ages 
and all conditions, whose understandings are not 
wholly uncultivated ; still it is to youth of either 
sex about to enter the world that their serious 
consideration is most particularly reqommended, as 
tending to fix them in those principles which can 
alone enable them to act, under every circum- 
stance and in every situation of hfe, in a manner 
worthy of the reason with which they are en- 
dowed and the high destination to which they are 
called. 



CONTENTS. 



FIRST MEDITATION. 

It is absolutely necessary to my Peace of Mind that I 
should know whether I am destined for a Life after 
Death or not . . . page 1 

SECOND MEDITATION. 

The Belief in Revelation is not sufficient to satisfy me in 
regard to a Future State : I must meditate upon it my- 
self . . . . . 8 

THIRD MEDITATION. 

What I understand by a Future State . 17 

FOURTH MEDITATION. 

A digression upon the influence of the Belief in God on the 
enquiry concerning a Future State . 26 

FIFTH MEDITATION. 

Is the ideaj Man, wholly comprised in the idea^ Body ? 35 
SIXTPI MEDITATION. 

If there is a Soul attached to the Body, must it not of ne- 
cessity perish with the Body ? . .48 

SEVENTH MEDITATION. 

Continuation of the preceding . . 61 

EIGHTH MEDITATION. 
First Argument of Reason in behalf of a Future State 72 

NINTH MEDITATION. 
Illustration of the preceding . . 82 



CONTENTS. 



TENTH MEDITATION. 

Second Argument in belialf of a Future State Page 98 

ELEVENTH MEDITATION. 

'Continuation of the preceding . . 107 

TWELFTH MEDITATION. 

Third Argument in behalf of a Future State . 117 

THIRTEENTH MEDITATION. 

Further Discussion of the same Argument . 129 

FOURTEENTH MEDITATION. 

Fourth Argument in behalf of a Future State . 140 

FIFTEENTH MEDITATION. 

Reconsideration of the Preceding Argument . 152 

SIXTEENTH MEDITATION. 

Fifth Argument in behalf of a Future State . 166 

SEVENTEENTH MEDITATION. 

Continuation of the preceding Argument . . 176 

EIGHTEENTH MEDITATION. 

Sixth Argument in behalf of a Future State . 190 

NINETEENTH MEDITATION. 

Further consideration of the same Argument . 199 

TWENTIETH MEDITATION. 

Seventh Argument in behalf of a Future State - 209 

TWENTY-FIRST MEDITATION. 

Continuation of the preceding Argument . 220 

TWENTY-SECOND MEDITATION. 

Eighth Argument in behalf of a Future State . 232 

TWENTY-THIRD MEDITATION. 

Continuation of the preceding Argument . 244 

TWENTY-FOURTH MEDITATION. 

Summary Recapitulation of all the Arguments of Reason 
in behalf of a Future State . . . 254 



IMMORTALITY, 

OR 

ANNIHILATION. 



FIRST MEDITATION. 

IT IS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY TO MY PEACE OF 
MIND THAT I SHOULD KNOW WHETHER I AM 
DESTINED FOR A LIFE AFTER DEATH OR NOT. 

O THE torturing uncertainty in which I am involv- 
ed ! at times nothing appears to be more clearly proved 
than that this life is but the dawn of my existence ; 
at others it seems to be a manifest delusion to expect 
a state beyond the grave. O Father ! by thy ashes, 
no human being can be more wretched than I am ! 

But am I not myself the creator of this misery ? 
Why not let things take their course and await the 
issue, be it what it may ? If it turns out that there is 
a future life, so much the better ! it will then be quite 
time enough to rejoice on account of it ; but, if in 
dying I cease to exist, there is an end of the matter. 
When I am no more, I cannot even know that I am 
no more ; consequently non-existence cannot then give 

B 



2 IMMORTALITY, 

me any pain. Annihilation, so far from being in itself 
an unpleasant state, is no state at all. Nothing can- 
not have properties. 

Ought the idea of annihilation to give me at pre- 
sent any pain ? If it did, it would be entirely my 
own fault. Why should I imagine something horrible 
where in reality there is nothing horrible. Those who 
find, not so much non-existence itself, as the concep- 
tion that they shall some time or other cease to exist, 
so hideous, are merely under the morbid influence of 
confused ideas. From daily experience they know 
that when they lose any important good they feel pain 
for the loss of it. To suffer loss and to feel pain have 
therefore become in their minds inseparable ideas. 
When they then think that some time or other they 
shall lose every thing, this habitual association of the 
two ideas calls forth the extreme pain which they 
shall once feel at the loss of all they possess. As they 
felt poor after being robbed, for instance, so it seems 
to them as if they should feel inexpressibly miserable 
when deprived of their existence. As, when their 
house was consumed by fire, they found themselves to 
their sorrow destitute of a habitation, so it seems to 
them that when they are annihilated they shall find 
themselves, to their extreme anguish, destitute of ex- 
istence. As they once stood beside the remains of a 
dear friend, mourning that he was no more, so they 
seem to be standing beside their own coffin and to be 
incapable of consolation because they are deposited in 



OR ANNIHILATION. 3 

it. But are not these mere delusions of the imagi- 
nation ? 

No — I feel no fear whatever of annihilation, and it 
is therefore not from any apprehension of this kind 
that I am desirous of knowing whether there is a fu- 
ture state or not. When in this life I lose any good, 
I, the loser, am left behind ; but if I lose my existence, 
there is none to feel this loss. Or am I perhaps com- 
pounded of two essences, one of which sustains the 
loss of existence, and the other deplores the loss sus- 
tained ? The idea that I should be suffering wrong by 
annihilation I cannot for a moment entertain. As I 
see that every thing around me once began to be and 
in time ceases to be, I cannot think it at all strange 
that I, who evidently once began to exist, should some 
time or other also cease to exist. 

But it is on another account important, — nay of the 
last importance — to me, that I should arrive at convic- 
tion either of the one or of the other : either that I 
do continue to exist in death, or that I do not. It is 
obvious that in each of these two cases a totally dif- 
ferent plan must be pursued. If every thing termi- 
nates with this life, I must conduct myself in a dif- 
ferent manner from what I ought to do, if death is but 
the transition to a future state. — Or, shall I give my- 
self no farther concern about the matter, and merely 
deem both possible — that there may be a future state, 
and that there may not ? If so, I shall be incessantly 
at variance with myself; my life will be a zigzag 
B 2 



4 IMMORTALITY, 

course ; it will not be governed by any fixed principle ; 
it will not form a whole, but a medley of contradic- 
tions, sometimes denoting the believer in a future 
state, at others the believer in annihilation. 

On this point then I must absolutely satisfy myself; 
and indeed I think it wrong in any person who has 
attained the age of mature understanding, to enter 
upon life without having settled in his own mind the 
question of his destination. It is perhaps to this ne- 
glect alone that the inconsistent conduct of so many 
is to be attributed. 

If there is no future state, I am destined exclusively 
for this world : in that case, reason commands me to 
live for this world alone. It is a thing of sense ; I am 
a creature of sense ; I must of course seek my chief 
happiness in sensual pleasures. I must strive to pro- 
cure as many of them as possible ; nay, I must be 
insatiably greedy of them, merely taking care not to 
abridge my existence by such gratifications : I must 
shun whatever would disturb me in their epjoyment, 
and reply to those who would call me to account for 
my conduct : " Let me alone, I shall live but once !" 
I should be a fool to think of any other cultivation of 
my understanding than that which would render me 
more ingenious in devising new gratifications of sense. 
I should be a still greater fool, were I to waste the 
timie, which as an independent man I can devote to 
this purpose, in professional pursuits, or even in phi- 
lanthropic actions. But I should be the greatest of 
all fools were I to think of suffering for others, or of 



OR ANNIHILATION. 5 

making the smallest sacrifice for the public good. I 
must avoid contracting any friendship, unless I were 
positively certain that my friend would survive me ; 
because otherwise the last separation from him would 
distress me, as the survivor. I must despise pure and 
constant love ; because it would prepare nothing but 
torture for my heart. I must renounce the hope of 
posterity ; because if wife and children were to die 
before me I should be inconsolable, and if I were to 
expire in their arms, the sight of them would uselessly 
aggravate the anguish of the final struggle. 

If, on the contrary, there is a future state, reason 
enjoins me not to live for this world alone, but to live 
for it only in so far as to prepare myself by it for ano- 
ther life ; for, if there are two states for me, the second 
must be founded on the first — or, to what end should 
I have received this first ? Nay, I cannot help believing 
that it will be out of my power to compensate there 
for any thing I may have neglected here towards my 
future happiness. Moral cultivation must then be my 
chief object ; since it is the moral part of me, the 
mind, that exists after death. I must therefore enjoy 
the pleasures of sense only in as far as they are neces- 
sary or contributary to my inward improvement. At 
any rate they ought by their enjoyment to stimulate 
me to moral cultivation, to strengthen and to render 
me more persevering in it. If they possess none of 
these qualities, they are pleasures beneath my dignity : 
and if they have a contrary effect, if they render me 
indifferent to my internal improvement, if they make 



6 IMMORTALITY, 

me worse instead of better, I must spurn them from 
me instead of grasping at them, I must trample them 
under foot instead of pressing them to my heart. If 
they effect this deterioration only when they are too 
often or too long indulged in, I must determine by 
this standard the frequency and the duration of their 
enjoyment ; for I must then consider them not as my 
end, but merely as the means of attaining that end. 
If there is a future state, I must certainly exercise my 
intellectual powers on external objects, but not dwell 
exclusively upon them, because in death these will 
cease to be objects for me. I must enrich myself 
with a superior kind of knowledge and with the no- 
blest sentiments, and cultivate my judgment, my taste, 
and my relish for the great and the beautiful, because 
these, being properties of the mind, will continue to be 
mine even after death. I must be diligent in what is 
good, and study on every occasion to promote the wel- 
fare of my fellow-creatures ; nay, continue my exer- 
tions, not only without reward, but even in spite of 
misrepresentation and hatred. I must suffer inno- 
cently, and be prepared to sacrifice every thing to 
truth and virtue ; because, without sowing such seed 
here no harvest is to be expected hereafter. If there is 
a future state, T may confidently follow the impulses of 
my benevolent heart, which instigate me to contract 
the most sacred ties of friendship and of love, and 
cheerfully enter the sphere of domestic life, because 
all these connexions will continue to subsist like my- 
self, and because the greater the number of those who 



OR ANNIHILATION. 7 

are wholly or partially indebted to me for their happi- 
ness here, the greater will be my felicity hereafter. 

Is it possible to conceive a stronger contrast be- 
tween two modes of thinking and acting — that is to 
say, between the way in which I must think and act, 
if there is a future state for me, and the way in which 
I must think and act if there is no future state ? For 
which of these two ways am I now to decide ? 

If I adopt such a plan of life as if there were a fu- 
ture state, and there should afterwards prove to be 
none, I shall have been an egregious fool. I shall in- 
deed not then grieve about it, because I shall no longer 
exist; but I shall justly be an object of ridicule in 
the eyes of all thinking beings. If I form my plan as 
if there were no future state, and there should after- 
wards prove to be such a state, what reason should I 
have to condemn and execrate myself! But would all 
my self- execrations then avail to rectify the fatal error ? 
Once more then I repeat — I must know what I have 
to expect. Be it which it will — a future state, or an- 
nihilation—what need I care, so 1 but know which ? 
My plan shall then be framed accordingly. 



IMMORTALITY, 



SECOND MEDITATION. 

THE BELIEF IN REVELATION IS NOT SUFFICIENT 
TO SATISFY ME IN REGARD TO A FUTURE STATE : 
I MUST MEDITATE UPON IT MYSELF. 

But why do I not lighten this labour for myself? 
Why not rather return to the belief in revelation ? It 
would then be decided that I should have a future 
existence. Thousands and tens of thousands find in 
this course conviction andP peace of mind ; are not 
these all the better for it ? Did not this belief once 
carry conviction and peace into my mind also ? 

As to those thousands and tens of thousands, I 
envy them not, if their mere belief in revelation ren- 
ders them believers in a future state ; but not one of 
them is sure that he shall not some time or other find 
himself in the same predicament in which I am at pre- 
sent. The first book that falls into his hands, the first 
conversation with a stranger, the first hour devoted to 
reflection, may shake his faith in revelation, and he will 
then be just where I now am. For my own part, I 
confess indeed that by means of revelation I formerly 



OR ANNIHILATION. 9 

felt convinced and easy in regard to a future state ; 
but, having lost my faith in revelation, I cannot return 
to it if I would. 

I have lately read the Bible through once more, and 
have found that it offers not a single evidence of a 
future state, but only bare assertions on that subject. 
These its assertions, however, ought no more to con- 
vince me than the bare assertions of other things which 
I meet with in other books ; for the Bible is nothing 
but a collection of information and advice given by 
well disposed men of antiquity to their rude contem- 
poraries. Whoever calls it a revelation can only call 
it so with reference to the age in which it was written : 
thus wise individuals instructed their totally ignorant 
fellow-men in matters which of themselves they would 
never have hit upon, and thus did they actually re- 
veal, that is, make known, these matters to them. As 
these instructions consisted of nothing but bare asser- 
tions, it behoves me first to examine every scriptural 
assertion just the same as any assertion that I find in 
other books, and to enquire whether it be correct. 
Thus then it is evident, that nothing but my own re- 
flection can convince me whether the doctrine of an 
existence after death, taught by 'the Bible also, be 
correct or not. 

Formerly I believed in the Bible, because I believed 
that it was the word of God. My tutor had instilled this 
notion into me from my childhood, and our minister at 
a later period said the same thing ; but neither the one 
nor the other ever proved it to me : nay, they never 



10 IMMORTALITY, 

told me in what sense the expression, the word of 
God, was to be understood. As it could not but con- 
vey some idea, I explained it to myself in this man- 
ner : that God had written and spoken with me in the 
Bible, just as my brother who was then abroad spoke 
with me in his letters — and this I most firmly believed 
without any farther evidence, at an age when one does 
not think of asking for evidences. Now, however, I 
entertain a different notion. 

It is easily said, that the Bible is the word of God, 
and of course all that is written there must be be- 
lieved without enquiry. Such a mode of gaining be- 
lief in truths and doctrines is suited only to the in- 
fancy and adolescence of mankind, but is no longer 
adapted to the present day. If I am to believe that 
the Bible is the word of God, it is to be presumed 
that I must first believe in God himself. But how am 
I then to convince myself that there is a God ? Be- 
cause I find it so written in the Bible ? — In this case 
you would first prove God by the word of God, and 
afterwards the word of God by God. The existence 
of God must therefore be absolutely demonstrated 
to me from reason. If then the first truth, God, 
be capable of demonstration from reason, must not 
every thing else that is said to be true be demonstrable 
from it also ? 

And when God has been demonstrated to me from 
reason, how am I to convince myself that the Bible is 
his word ? Must I believe it because it is so written 
m the Bible ? Can testimony given in one's own cause, 



OR ANNIHILATION. 11 

and in one's own behalf, be deemed valid ? It is not 
the Bible then that must declare itself to be the 
word of God, but God himself must declare it to be 
such ; and this declaration must reach every one who 
is expected to regard it as his word, and that so 
distinctly, as not to admit of the raising of any 
doubt against it. This again cannot take place jn 
any other manner than by means of reason. Every 
other kind of declaration would, inasmuch as we were 
expected to recognize it as a declaration of God's, 
again require a declaration of God's ; this would re- 
quire another, and so on ad iiifinitum. If then reason 
must first decide whether the Bible is the word of 
God, how is it to do this? Certainly in no other 
way than by enquiring whether the doctrines con- 
tained in the Bible are consistent w4th reason, or in 
other words, whether they are rational, and therefore 
worthy of belief. Thus it is again evident, that my 
own reflection alone can convince me whether I ought 
to believe in the existence after death inculcated by 
the Bible. 

It is not then from belief in revelation that I can 
believe in a future state; but from the belief in a 
future state the belief in revelation must absolutely 
spring. And if reason must thus first reveal whether 
the Bible be a revelation, the Bible is not the higher 
revelation, but reason ; for reason is the revealer of 
the revelation. 

And where, after all, do I find the doctrine of a 
future state laid down in the Bible ? In none of the 



12 IMMOllTALITY, 

canonical books, as they are culled, of the Old 
Testament. From " Dust thou art, to dust thou shalt 
return'* — to : "In death there is no remembrance of 
thee : in the grave who skall give thee thanks ?" and 
again, from : "In deaths, there is no remembrance of 
thee" — to : " Then shall the dust return to the earth 
as it was ; and the spirit shall return unto God who 

gave it" — that is, again become God and so on 

through all the Prophets, we everywhere find rather 
grounds for a contrary opinion. It is most true that 
whoever should be required to deduce his belief re- 
specting the destination of man from the Old Testa- 
ment alone, must believe not' in a future state, but 
that there is no such state. It is in the apocryphal 
books, as they are termed, consequently, in those 
books which are not even reckoned a part of the word 
of God, that the doctrine of a future state first occurs. 
In the Book of Wisdom we meet with it for the first 
time, and this book is of much later date than the 
schools of the Greeks in which that doctrine was 
already taught — nay, it is evident that the Jews first 
received it from the Greeks. Long before it was 
positively taught by Jesus, it had been taught by 
Socrates. Socrates, therefore discovered it by means 
of reason, and this is the only fitting, as it is the 
only true revelation for mankind. Every other is 
either a wicked imposture or a pious fraud, which 
may indeed prove serviceable in ruder ages, but is of 
no benefit in more enlightened periods, nay even must 



OR ANNIHILATION^. IS 

be done away with, because it evidently treats the 
man as a child. 

I am therefore not sorry that I have lost my juve- 
nile faith in revelation : on the contrary, I bless Fate 
which has so decreed. For what purpose am I gifted 
with reason, if I will not make use of it ? So long as 
I believed in revelation, so long I actually made no 
use of my reason. " Your papa said you must do 
it," was the language held by the valet, when my 
father was not at home ; and accordingly I did what 
was required. " God has said so ; you must believe 
it," was the injunction of my tutor before reason was 
thoroughly awake, and accordingly I did believe it. 
That system is now at an end ; I do, not what my 
father is said to have desired, but what Reason tells 
me that I ought to do ; and thus too I will believe, 
not what God is said to have enjoined, but what 
Reason tells me that I ought to believe. Let then 
the enquiry concerning my destination be ever so 
arduous a task, I am convinced that it is the only 
course by which I can clear up the matter. 

" But how, if on finishing your enquiry, annihilation 
should stare you in the face as its plain and palpable 
result ; and you should perceive that benevolent 
sages, aware of this, sought rather to deter men from 
meditating on the subject, and to lead them to faith 
in revelation ?" 

The only reply which I can make to this is, that 
if the final result proves to be annihilation, I must 



14 IMMORTALITY, 

resign myself to my lot. In this case, however, those 
sages have rendered no particular benefit to mankind 
by inculcating faith in revelation ; on the contrary 
they have done it an injury, and restrained it by the 
doctrine of a future state, which revelation involves, 
from the full and free enjoyment of life. Of what 
avail are golden dreams ! I want to know the truth : 
what else is of any value ? If I cannot have more, I 
will make up my mind to be content with what I 
possess. If I am doomed to annihilation, still I have 
been a thinking being. What must the lion, what 
must the stag do, which are not so long-lived as I am, 
and have not even the faculty of thought ? What the 
insect, that exists but a day and is then annihilated ? 
If annihilation be my lot, I must act accordingly. 

But how if, after all my enquiries, I were to arrive 
at no certainty either as to a future state or as to 
annihilation ? That would indeed be a provoking 
disappointment. But I am not afraid of it. On a 
matter which so deeply concerns me, I must be able 
to come to some decision. 

But how can I expect to be more successful than 
so many others who have gone before me? Some 
imagined that they had incontestably proved a future 
state for Man. Contrary to their expectations, the 
weakness of their arguments, and of precisely those 
arguments on which they built the most, was de- 
tected. Others had in their opinion proved annihila- 
tion in the most incontrovertible manner, and were 
afterwards convicted of a spirit of sophistry. 



OR ANNIHILATION. 15 

That may be. The former probably believed be- 
fore they set about enquiring, or were at least solici- 
tous that the affirmative should be established by the 
enquiry. When this is the case, possibility appears 
in the eyes of the enquirer as probability, and proba- 
bility as certainty. The latter were perhaps strangers 
to virtue, attached to the gross pleasures of sense, and 
had reason to wish, for their part, that there were no 
future state. Thus their own hearts suggested their 
first doubts. It was not till these doubts had gained 
strength that they proceeded to the enquiry, and then 
they caught only at such ideas as nourished their 
doubts. They wished the result to be annihilation, 
and therefore it was no wonder that they drew false 
conclusions. 

I am not in either of these predicaments. Thanks 
to my education I am not a vicious man, and have no 
cause to wish that there may not be a future state. 
Belief in annihilation is not requisite for my tranquil- 
lity. Most sincerely do I pity all who are in this truly 
deplorable predicament ; for I cannot conceive any 
thing more miserable than a human being who is sunk 
so low that nothing can tranquillize him but the idea 
that when he dies he shall cease to exist. On the 
other hand, I can say, if I know any thing of myself, 
that the belief in a future state is not indispensably 
necessary for my tranquillity. If there is no such 
thing, there is not. Without any prepossession, then, 
and wholly unbiassed, I proceed to my enquiry. I feel 
no solicitude that this or that should result from it ; 



16 IMMORTALITY, 

but be the result what it may I shall be content. I 
only desire to know whether or not, that I may 
arrange my plan of life accordingly. All plans are 
indifferent to me, but if I can avoid it I will not adopt 
a false one. When the question is once decided, the 
plan will soon be formed ; for reason will form it on 
the spot, and that in the only way in which it can be 
formed; and if I would be a rational being I must 
follow its dictates be they what they will. 

With confidence then I enter on the momentous 
enquiry. Whoever is so indifferent on the subject as 
I at least think myself to be cannot miss his aim ; 
he must discover the truth. 



on ANNIHILATION. 17 



THIRD MEDITATION. 

WHAT I UNDERSTAND BY A FUTURE STATE. 

That the constituent parts of my body, when it is 
entirely dissolved, continue to exist, I believe without 
any enquiry. In Nature nothing is destroyed but the 
forms which arise from combination. The original 
matter is indestructible, and this does not lie useless 
after the dissolution of the form, but in time re- 
appears in another shape. If my future state is to 
be of this nature, it is not worth a single thought. 
Could I call such a state mif future state ? I cannot 
comprehend v*^hat notions they must entertain who 
assert, that they shall some day sing again in the 
bird, flourish in the tree, and blossom in the flower ? 
Can a person in his sober senses listen to such ab- 
surdities without a smile l 

No ; there cannot be a future state for me except 
inasmuch as that part of me which feels and thinks, 
which sees by means of the eye, hears by means of 
the ear, and has a rational consciousness of this,— in 

c 



18 IMMORTALITY, 

one word, I, continue to exist after death. This is 
the point. 

Hence it immediately follows that by a future state 
after death, I mean not a new second life, which may 
some time or other be allotted to me, when as they 
say this body shall rise from the grave, but a continu- 
ation, an uninterrupted continuation, of my present 
existence, in spite of that which is denominated death. 
If I am not to attach this idea to my future state, I 
would rather drop the enquiry altogether ; the matter 
would be decided at once. It is not with existence as 
with music, which may begin again afresh after pauses 
whether short or long. Admit a single pause, a single 
break, in my existence, and it is all over with my ex- 
istence for ever. 

If I must not think of any future state independent 
of this body, I must of course not think of any recom- 
mencement of my existence after death. Throughout 
all nature we find not a single instance that constituent 
parts, which were once combined into a certain form, 
were, after the dissolution of that form, ever reunited 
into the same form. The thing appears at the very 
first blush wholly uDreasonable. Had there been 
still power to hold the constituent parts together 
the form would not have fallen to pieces ; whence 
then is to proceed the power of recomposing the form 
anew ? And how ? Shall particles which thousands 
of years back composed a human body, and have 
meanwhile been blown to and fro by all the winds 
of heaven, ever come together again ? In this case, 



OR ANNIHILATION. 19 

it is really not enough to cut the knot and to appeal 
to an Omnipotent Being with whom nothing is impos- 
sible. This Omnipotent Being himself could not 
work such a miracle ; for many of the particles, nay 
perhaps all that constitute my body, have already 
belonged to other human bodies before mine, and 
will hereafter again contribute to the composition of 
other human bodies. Thus then, at the general resto- 
ration of bodies, the same particles must be in twenty 
or thirty different bodies at once, which of all impossi- 
bilities is certainly one of the most impossible. 

The ordinary theory of the resurrection compre- 
hends tenets which are wholly irreconcileable. Re- 
surrection is promised to the body, and at the same 
time immortality is allotted to the soul. Nay, what 
is still more, the souls of the righteous are repre- 
sented as entering immediately after their separation 
from the body into the bliss prepared for them, and 
the souls of the wicked as being in like manner 
consigned immediately after death to deserved misery. 
Notwithstanding this we are told, that the general 
resurrection will be connected with a general judg- 
ment, in which sentence will be passed upon every 
individual, and agreeably to this sentence he will 
enter either the mansions of the blest or the abodes 
of the damned. Thus then the righteous souls are 
represented as being admitted into bliss before bliss 
is awarded to them, and the wicked as being consigned 
to damnation before they are condemned. Setting 
aside even this manifest contradiction, still the ques- 
c 2 



20 IMMORTALITY, 

tion would arise, how the bodies and souls which have 
been separated ever since death could come together 
again at the time of the resurrection. Either the 
bodies must go to the souls or the souls to the bodies. 
As, however, the inanimate body cannot change its 
place, there is no other alternative than that each 
spirit must fetch its body. Every spirit therefore 
would not only enter its future abode twice, the first 
time without the body and the second with the body ; 
but there is not a human being capable of answer- 
ing the question, how the soul is to fetch its body. 
Either the whole man must be deposited in the grave, 
if there is to be a resurrection ; or there is no such 
thing as a resurrection. At any rate, it is impossible 
to believe sincerely at one and the same time in the 
resurrection of the body and the immortality of the 
soul. 

Again — if, according to that theory, the righteous 
souls were already happy, and the wicked already 
miserable before the resurrection, they must be so 
without bodies. What need would they then have of 
the resurrection of the mouldered body ? But can we 
form the least idea how a spirit can be happy or 
miserable without body ? How can the world in which 
it exists, be it what world it will, have the least in- 
fluence upon it ; how can it produce changes in it ; 
how can pleasure or pain be prepared for it, if it has 
no organs of sensation ? In like manner — how is it 
to have influence on the world around it, how produce 
changes in it, or be of the least importance, nay 



OR ANNIHILATION. 21 

merely visible, if it has no members ? It is the body 
alone by which the world is its world, and the soul a 
citizen of the world. Without body the world cannot 
affect it, neither can it affect the world ; for in both 
cases means are wanting for the purpose. If then 
the righteous were actually happy before the resurrec- 
tion, and the wicked miserable ; they must also have 
a body before the resurrection. But if they had one, 
what need would they have of the resurrection of the 
buried body ? Nay, how would they get rid of the 
former in order to be united to the latter ? 

The theory of the resurrection then is full of con- 
tradictions, and hence it is no wonder that its adher- 
ents should very frequently contradict themselves. 
Sometimes they console themselves with the idea, 
that as soon as they have departed they shall be with 
Christ ; and therefore long to depart : at others they 
say, that we shall not rise from our graves till the re- 
turn of Christ, and then go forth to meet the Lord. 
Sometimes they allege that it is the body only which 
is here sown or buried ; at others they assert, that on 
the day of resurrection, the dead in Christ, of course 
not merely the bodies of the dead, but the entire 
dead, will rise again. 

It is therefore my firm belief that the doctrine of 
the resurrection was not meant by those who preach- 
ed it to be taken so literally as it is at present under- 
stood. For the sake of their credit I assume, that 
they merely intended to illustrate the doctrine of a 
future state after death, a doctrine far too lofty for 



^2 IMMORTALITY, 

their ruder age, and therefore merely represented it 
under the emblem of the resurrection. Had they 
at once stood forth and taught that man conti- 
nues to exist after death, thousands would have im- 
mediately replied, that it was false, because the dead 
lay quietly in their graves, and whoever lay there 
could not possibly be alive. They preached therefore, 
that the dead should rise and be reanimated. There 
can be no doubt then that the sensible emblem of the 
resurrection was only designed to render the doctrine 
of a future state, which was not palpable to the senses, 
intelligible and comprehensible to the multitude. It 
was eventually of no consequence if the multitude did 
stop at the emblem ; the aim was attained, inasmuch 
as they ^.earned to believe that there was more than one 
life for them. 

Even in the wise Nazarene, who in plain terms 
taught the doctrine of the resurrection, it was certainly 
nothing more than condescension to the spirit of his 
nation and his age ; and it was from the same motive 
that he described the state of the blessed as a being at 
table with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and the state of 
the damned as a being in everlasting fire. Had he at- 
tempted to represent to his grossly sensual contempo- 
raries the happiness of the good as an eternal progres- 
sion in wisdom and virtue, and the misery of the 
wicked as an eternal backwardness in both ; they 
would have stared in astonishment. The ancient Jew 
had no notion of happiness unconnected with sensible 
pleasure, or of damnation without sensible pain. In 



OR ANNIHILATION. 23 

like manner the Jew of antiquity had no conception of 
a future state without the present body : in order there- 
fore to instil into him the doctrine of a future life, 
Jesus was necessitated to teach the resurrection. It 
must moreover be recollected, that Jesus found the 
resurrection already introduced into the system of the 
Pharisees, and therefore he retained the image with 
which his countrymen were previously familiar ; be- 
cause, if he had taken it away, he would at once have 
taken the thing itself away also, and made his contem- 
poraries believers in annihilation. 

It is worthy of remark too, that the acute Paul 
proceeds a step farther in this matter. In the gospel 
history, the risen Jesus still bears about him the marks 
of his wounds and the prints of the nails, and can also 
partake of the fish broiled by his disciples : Paul, on 
the contrary, says, that the corruptible body shall rise 
incorruptible; that what is sown in dishonour shall 
reappear in glory ; and he calls the second body em- 
phatically a glorified body. More than this indeed his 
age could not have borne ; but herein we plainly dis- 
cover the transition to the only correct notion of the 
matter, that is to say, if there be any truth in the 
matter itself. 

Some of the advocates of the generally received 
theory of the resurrection have sought to obviate the 
contradictions which it manifestly involves, by giving 
it a different construction. They contend that the 
entire man is buiied, and that he shall rise again en- 
tire, and represent the soul as existing meanwhile in 



24 IMMORTALITY, 

the grave. Hence the horrible notions of the state of 
the dead and the lamentations at their tombs, which, 
however, were not carried beyond due bounds, if these 
representations were correct. Gracious Heaven ! what 
misery that must be, if, after having existed with con- 
sciousness sixty or eighty years on the surface of the 
earth, we were to exist in like manner with conscious- 
ness ten or a hundred times as long in the bosom of 
the earth ! Can imagination figure to itself any thing 
more horrible than this ? 

It was no wonder then that other advocates of this 
doctrine should come forward, and seek to mitigate the 
horrors of this state by assuming a sleep of the soul. 
In their opinion the soul, like the body, will sit in the 
darkness and shadow of death, but without having a 
consciousness of its situation. 

Convinced as I am that a resurrection is wholly out 
of the question, neither the fear of sufferings in the 
grave nor the consolation of the sleep of the soul has 
the least weight with me. Either I shall be entirely 
annihilated in death, or I must continue to exist after 
death without this body. The body which is buried is 
buried for ever, and cannot be restored to me. If, 
however, I continue to exist, I must certainly have a 
body again. But in order to this, it is not necessary 
that there should be a resurrection, as it is called, after 
a long interval. A very different kind of resurrection 
may take place. At the moment when my present 
body perishes, the future body may be instantaneously 
formed out of it, and thus the moment of my death 



OR ANNIHILATION. 25 

would be at the same time the moment of my resur- 
rection. 

Since, according to the assertion of revelation itself, 
the grosser particles composing my body are not suited 
to the other world, but must be left behind in the 
grave, I cannot see why the separation of the more 
subtile particles of which my future body is to be com- 
posed must be deferred several centuries or some 
thousands of years, and why it might not take place 
immediately. If a long mouldering and total reduc- 
tion to dust were absolutely requisite, how would it 
fare with those who should not die till the very day of 
the supposed general resurrection ? or with those who 
might then be still living? Here Paul furnishes us 
with a hint and says — These shall merely be changed. 

It would be possible then to continue to exist with- 
out first rising again, and the separation of the future 
body from the present might take place in a moment ! 
To this opinion I should cheerfully subscribe. But 
what does this concern me? If I am destined by 
Nature to exist after death, every thing else would 
follow of course. The only question to be solved is — 
whether I am so destined or not. 



26 IMMORTALITY, 



FOURTH MEDITATION. 

A DIGRESSION UPON THE INFLUENCE OF THE BE- 
LIEF IN GOD ON THE ENQUIRY CONCEPvNING A 
FUTURE STATE. 

I SPOKE of Nature as having destined me for a 
future state or not. Why did I not rather substitute 
God for Nature, and at once attribute to him my 
destiny whatever it may be ? 

Here I am met by the question — Before it is de- 
cided whether there is a future state for Man or not, 
must it not first be demonstrated whether there is a 
God or not ? 

I cannot think so. On the contrary I am of opin- 
ion that an atheist may believe the immortahty of the 
soul as well as one who admits the existence of a 
God. The idea — There is no God — does not lead as 
a necessary consequence to the idea : Man is an- 
nihilated in death. He who has no occasion for a 
God to account for his origin or his present existence, 
has no occasion for a God to believe a future ex- 
istence. The same Nature which, as he presumes. 



OR ANNIHILATION, 27 

conferred on him the faculty of living sixty or eighty 
years, can, according to his views, confer on him the 
faculty of living for ever. 

Of course, if two persons were to dispute whether 
there is a future state for Man or not, each ought to 
be previously acquainted with the sentiments of the 
other on this subject : else if the one believes in God 
and the other not, and the former at the same time 
believes in a future state and the latter not ; the first, 
when he brings forward evidences deduced from God 
and his attributes in favour of a future state, will be 
met by the second with the objection, that his argu- 
ments are founded on positions which themselves 
require to be proved. 

But at any rate, if it be admitted that there is a 
God, ought it not to be equally admitted that there is 
a future state for us mortals. If there are persons 
who do not believe in God but yet believe in a future 
state, may there not be persons who believe in God 
and yet doubt a future state ? 

If this were not the case I should myself never have 
entered into this enquiry. I have no hesitation to 
acknowledge that I believe most sincerely in God. If 
then the evidences deduced from God in favour of a 
future state were perfectly convincing, I should have 
no occasion to engage in any investigation concerning 
a future state. As yet however, I am not convinced. 
Though, for example, I figure God to myself as the 
most beneficent being, still it does not seem thence to 



28 IMMORTALITY, 

follow that I am authorized to hope for immortality. 
God would still be a most bountiful being to me 
if I were even to be annihilated in death ; for if I 
consider what prerogatives I enjoy as man above all 
other creatures, and with what pleasures I can embel- 
lish my existence, I must be entirely made up of in- 
gratitude, if I were not content. Were I to assert 
that God would have been much more bountiful if he 
had made my existence everlasting, I might for the 
same reason desire of him a great deal more, and who 
knows what? I might desire that he should have 
placed me in a higher order of beings, that he might 
approve himself still more bountiful towards me. 

As, however, I cannot know beforehand how far 
and which way my enquiries may conduct me, and 
whether the belief in God may not eventually be in- 
volved in them, I will review once more the series of 
reflections which has extorted from me the admission 
of that belief. 

That the primitive matter of the world is eternal I 
think myself bound to admit. What should have 
been before it existed ? Whence should it have come ? 
If God had first created it, how could the mere will of 
God that matter should exist have produced matter ? 
As I am not capable of answering all these questions, 
it seems to me more rational to admit the eternity of 
matter than to deny it. I see however that new forms 
are incessantly arising, and thence conclude, that all 
the forms which meet my eye once had a beginning. 



OR ANNIHILATION. 29 

though I was not present to witness their beginning. 
I must therefore assume something hy which the forms 
at least were produced. 

If I call this something Nature, I cannot mean any 
thing else by that term, which thousands employ 
without attaching to it any idea, than either a Being 
which exists independently of matter, or matter itself. 
In the former case I should merely be giving another 
name to this being and calling it Nature, while other 
men call it God, and I must therefore attribute to 
Nature all the properties that are attributed to God. 
But were I disposed to designate matter itself by the 
term Nature, I cannot conceive how matter, of which 
the form is made, could be at the same time the maker 
of that form. 

Were I to be told that it was the primary energies 
of matter which made the form out of matter, I 
would then ask what is the meaning of the term 
primary energies ? Is any precise 'idea attached to 
this expression, or is it adopted without reflection? 
May not many who fancy that they attach to it some 
idea, without being aware of it themselves, connect 
with primary energies the same notion that others 
connect with God ? And if this were the case, those 
who refuse to believe in God would believe in Gods, 
If however the primary energies are the mere intrinsic 
efforts of matter after form, the next question is, why 
they affect precisely this or that form and not any other. 

Were it to be replied that these efforts were prede- 
termined, I would then ask by what they were so de- 



30 IMMORTALITY, 

termined. 1 might receive for answer — By their own 
intrinsic essence. In this case we should not only be 
obliged to assume an infinite multitude of primary 
energies to account for the infinite diversity of forms, 
but should make out of the intrinsic essence of each 
of them an all-wise Being, which knew how to give 
to every form that it affected the utmost symmetry, 
beauty, and perfection. And thus in the end matter 
itself w^ould be God, and every thing that exists would 
be God. As this is downright nonsense, I must assume 
a Being out of matter by means of which forms are 
produced. This Being, which I would rather call by 
his old nam.e God, is most intimately connected with 
the world, has determined from all eternity the in- 
trinsic efforts of matter after shape, and is thereby the 
Creator and the Preserver of all things. 

In like manner as I see forms arise, I see them also 
dissolve ; and others of the same kind again arise ; in 
short I see generations follow one another. I see 
these follow one another in such a manner, that the 
one which goes before is always the cause of that 
which follows. Familiar as this observation is to 
me, still it excites my whole attention. 

Though, namely, the matter of the universe is eternal, 
yet the earth, as an individual planet, is not eternal. 
It is only a form, and must have had a beginning as 
well as all other forms. If it had a beginning, there 
must have been upon it a first generation of all the 
species of beings that are to be found in it. Should 
these have been produced merely by the primary 



OR ANNIHILATION. 81 

energies of matter, the intrinsic essence of which had 
determined them to strive after those forms ; it would 
be very extraordinary that nothing farther should be 
known concerning such production, either at the pre- 
sent day or so far back as human tradition extends. 
We might suppose that, in the same manner as the 
first generation was produced, all the subsequent ge- 
nerations must have been produced. Whence then 
proceeded the change — the succession of generations 
by procreation? And why should not the primary 
energies of matter still produce similar forms merely 
by their intrinsic determination to certain forms, 
without the present usual mode of generation ? Have 
they, perhaps for wise reasons, spontaneously re- 
nounced that power ? In short, if the primary ener- 
gies of Nature cannot of themselves produce a form 
at the present time, neither could they of themselves 
have produced the first form of each species. 

The observation then that successive generations 
follow one another by means of procreation conducts 
me of necessity to God. There must be another par- 
ticular cause besides matter for the existence of every 
generation. With all of them excepting the first, it 
is that just mentioned. But what was the cause of 
the first ? It is impossible to assign any other than 
a Being which exists out of matter — God, whose wis- 
dom devised the diversity of forms, and who likewise 
deemed it befitting his wisdom to impart to the first 
form which he produced the faculty of producing a 
second, and to communicate to this second the same 



32 IMMORTALITY, 

faculty of procreation, and so on down to the present 
generation. 

One of the most perfect forms that exist is the hu- 
man body. My body is in the strictest sense of the 
term, a world in miniature. If then there is in it a 
something which thinks and wills, which governs it and 
accomplishes with it all that it is capable of — a some- 
thing without whose co-operation it frequently acts 
in a foolish manner, and with whose separation from 
it, its dissolution is combined, — must there not be 
in the universe a something which thinks and wills 
in it as in its body ; which governs the whole ; the 
co-operation of which causes every thing to pursue its 
proper course ; which repairs the disorders that in- 
evitably arise, and on the non-existence or separation 
of which from it all things would have an end ? — 
The soul of the body, I. — The body, my world. — 
The soul of the universe, God. — The u?iiverse, the body 

of God! a 

And then — when I survey the glory of the world, 
can I help thinking of a Being of whose glory it is 
merely a reflection ? When I review in imagination 
all of good, and great, and fair, that is distributed 
throughout Nature, can I help inferring a something 
in which all this is really combined ? When I per- 
ceive on all sides effects which not only resemble the 
effects of the highest human intelligence, but infi- 
nitely surpass them, can I help acknowledging an all- 
intelligent cause ? and when I every where witness 
the execution of the most sublime plans, can I help 



OR ANNIHILATION. 33 

believing the existence of a most sublime framer of 
those plans ? 

If I believe in God all is cheerfulness and light — all 
gloom and darkness if I do not believe. Without 
God all the world is a riddle to me — nay, I am a rid- 
dle to myself : I know not for what purpose all that 
it contains was designed ; neither do I know for what 
purpose I was placed in the world. 

I have therefore been compelled to believe in God, 
and I do believe in hhn from the bottom of my heart. 
This is my solemn confession to myself. Nobody ex- 
torts it from me ; it is made of my own perfectly free 
will. Fortune has placed me in such a situation, that 
if I were an atheist I might proclaim it loudly and 
openly, without having occasion to apprehend the 
least worldly injury from the admission. I have 
found, however, that if I would be a rational being, 
I must be a believer in God, and experience has taught 
me that it was well for me that I became such : for 
now, whenever I act as reason dictates, the thought 
that the Supreme Reason approves my action elevates 
me much more than the action itself; and when I 
enjoy pleasures, the idea that they are bestowed on 
me by a God of Joy renders them far sweeter than 
their enjoyment itself. I have yet known but little 
sorrow, excepting when my father was removed from 
me, and then I derived my chief solace from the 
reflection that a wiser than he had put so early a pe- 
riod to his career. I really believe that in future the 

D 



34 IMMORTALITY, 

thought— It is the will of God — will be sufficient to 
soothe my heart under the severest afflictions. 

My belief in God then is firm as a rock ; but how 
the belief in a future state is thence to follow, I cer- 
tainly cannot at least as yet discover. 



OH ANNIHILATION. 35 



FIFTH MEDITATION. 

IS THE IDEA, MAN, WHOLLY COMPRISED IN 
THE IDEA, BODY? 

I SPOKE of a something in this body that feels, thinks, 
and wills — but is there really such a something ? May 
not feeling, thought, and will, be mere effects of the 
mechanism of the body, just like respiration, the cir- 
culation of the blood, and the preparation of the chyle? 
If that is the case indeed, if there is not a particular 
something united with the body, its existence after 
death is out of the question, and there is an end to 
my enquiry concerning a future state. Let me not be 
told — ^' This does not follow of course ; think of the 
flute. The tone which it gives is its essence. It 
seems only to be lost when one piece of wood is 
changed for another, but always reappears with the 
same particular kind of structure. Now consider the 
/ as the tone^ why should not Nature continue to 
carve instruments, in order that an I, which she 
wishes to preserve, may not be lost ?" — What ! does 
then the flute give out a tone before some one blows 
D 2 



36 IMMORTALITY, 

into it ? It is not the tone itself, but the mere capabi- 
lity of tone that is its essence ; and let it possess this 
property in ever so great perfection, it is a very dif- 
ferent thing whether it is played by a bungler or by a 
master. The comparison will not hold good. 

The more I reflect upon the matter, the more im- 
probable it seems to me that sensation, thought, and 
will, are merely the effects of the mechanism of the 
body, just like respiration or the circulation of the 
juices. I am thoroughly convinced indeed, that, with- 
out the requisite corporeal arrangement, for which I 
shall once for all adopt the scholastic term, organiza- 
tiorij I should not be capable of feeling and thinking; 
but, that the. organization itself feels and thinks, or 
that sensation and thought are mere mechanical ef- 
fects of its concordant operations, is what I never can 
persuade myself. Neither can I, clearly comprehend 
how those corporeal functions arise out of the mere 
mechanism of the body ; but this mechanism is in- 
adequate to the elucidation of the mental functions 
as they are called ; nay, I cannot form any concep- 
tion how these could be produced by its means alone. 
There seems, besides, to be too prodigious a difference 
between the two sorts of functions to admit of our 
assuming one and the same cause for both. A pulsa- 
tion and a witticism — an inspiration and a corollary — 
is it possible that both can proceed from one source? 
Not only are my feelings excited by present objects, 
but 1 can renew within me past impressions, and anti- 
cipate future sensations. How can the / here be the. 



OR ANNIHILATION. 37 

organization, since it is not excited by any exter- 
nal cause ? — or how can it create a sensation in the 
absence of the real object of that sensation? In like 
manner I think not merely what / am obliged to think ; 
I think also what I please to think — and the latter a 
thousand times oftener than the former. In this case 
it is evident that the organization does not command, 
but is commanded ? Commanded — bi/ what ? 

My mind too, I must own, revolts at the thought 
that the idea Man should be wholly comprised in the 
idea body. The slightest voluntary movement, in my 
opinion, refutes this notion. I have, for instance, my 
hand in my bosom, and purpose after a while to ex- 
tend it. Perfectly conscious that it is still in ray bo- 
som, I take notice what it will do. There however it 
remains in quiet, and is not stretched out till I say — 
Now ! — when it is instantly extended. Should I be 
disposed to assert that it stretched itself out, or that 
the other hand, or one leg, or both legs, or the whole 
body stretched it out ; why was it not stretched out 
before ? If then neither a single part of my body nor 
my whole body extended it, what did produce this 
effect? — And if it was stretched out precisely at the 
moment when I said within myself — Now! — must not 
the I in question be a peculiar something that thinks 
and wills in the body ? — Nay I can throw down my 
whole body and raise it up again, when and in what 
manner I will. Now if the I which throws it down 
and raises it up again were the body itself and not 
another something within it, why does it not throw 



38 IMMORTALITY, 

itself down when I do not please ? Why does it not 
rise sooner or later than I please ? I have not the 
least consciousness that it is a part of the body or the 
whole body that extends the hand, or that the whole 
body lays itself down ; but I have the clearest con- 
sciousness that it is / who stretch out the one and lay 
down the other, and that both movements only take 
place expressly by my will. Can I deny this convic- 
tion ? Does it not compel me to adopt a more ex- 
alted notion of Man, which it evidently establishes ? 

If I moreover ask myself, at the moment when I 
have a perfect consciousness of myself and of the ex- 
ternal world, — who has this consciousness ? — I have 
not the least ground for supposing that it can be at- 
tributed to individual parts of my body or to my whole 
body. I have even a distinct knowledge of all the 
parts of the body, and of the different changes that 
are taking place in the whole body. Has then each 
individual part a separate knowledge of itself? I ask 
my fingers if they know that I am now writing : they 
know nothing about it. Or have all the parts toge- 
ther a knowledge of the whole ? I cannot but think 
that if each part individually has no knowledge of it- 
self, it is impossible for them all collectively to have 
any collective knowledge of themselves. 

The consciousness of my situation, the sense of 
my happiness and misery, my joys and sorrows, my 
opinions, judgments and resolutions, are all in the 
same predicament. They cannot be attributed either 
to individual parts, or to all the parts of the body 



OR ANNIHILATION. 39 

united, and there must consequently be a particular 
something in the body which feels, thinks, judges, and 
resolves. This something must of course need an or- 
ganization to perform all this ; but the united concor- 
dant agency of the organization is not itself this some- 
thing; and therefore the idea Man is by no means 
wholly comprised in the idea body. 

But do I not then feel that it is the head which 
thinks ? Do I not feel that it is the heart which 
wills ? Do I not feel that it is the whole body which 
receives sensations ? 

No, I feel only that I think with my head and not 
with my hands or feet. I feel only that my will acts 
chiefly through the heart. Were it the heart itself 
that willed, there would be no need for thoughts to 
precede actions. Now my own consciousness teaches 
me, that without an idea of the desirable there can be 
no inclination, and without an idea of the detestable 
no aversion. And were it the head itself that thought, 
it could never think any thing but that to which phy- 
sical sensations furnished occasion ; but this, as al- 
ready observed, is by no means the case. Profound 
thinkers frequently determine themselves the subject 
of their meditations, and carefully shut out all exter- 
nal impressions that they may pursue those medita- 
tions without interruption. 

As to sensation, it is not the whole body that re- 
ceives the impression but merely the nerves ; these 
again are only the instruments of mi/ sensations, and 
do not themselves feel. It is not even decided whether 



40 IMMORTALITY, 

I feel pain at the part injured, or only in the brain. 
Be this as it may, if it was the nerves themselves 
that felt, the feeling must either affect each in- 
dividual nerve or the whole nervous system. In the 
latter case all feelings must be alike ; in the former, 
what a multitude of feelings in one body ! And, must 
not these again be under one chief feeler, to take cog- 
nisance of their sensations and appropriate them to 
itself. Why cannot young children, when they feel 
pain, point at once to the spot where they have been 
hurt ? I, as a grown person, have already experienced 
pain in every part of my body. Every kind of pain 
differed, and left behind particular impressions upon me. 
When a pain of a kind that I have already experienced 
recurs, I can immediately tell the place from which 
it proceeds. Still I may make a mistake, if, when my 
attention is withdrawn from my body and fixed on 
something else, a gnat should bite me, and apply my 
hand to my right leg though it was the left that was 
bitten. Nay even still, if any exciting cause affects 
the nerves in a way that I never yet experienced, I 
cannot tell what really ails me. Must not all this be 
otherwise, if the nerves themselves felt ? I see clearly 
too that I can defy the feeling of moderate pain. In 
like manner, if I feel pain in one part of my body 
only, I say : I have a pain here ; in other respects 
nothing ails me. Is it the suffering part that says the 
one, and the rest of the body the other ? There must 
then absolutely be a something besides the body that 
feels in the body. To the nerves indeed belongs the 



OR ANNIHILATIOJf. 41 

preparation or conveyance of sensations, but to the 
soul the susceptibility for them. 

But do we not talk of happy and unhappy organi- 
zation ? Do we not charge insensibility, stupidity, 
and idiocy, to a defective organization ? Do we not 
thereby admit that organization is what is called the 
soul itself, and the body the entire man ? 

A vast deal no doubt depends on perfection of the 
organization, the defects of which are not to be com- 
pensated by the most excellent education ; while, on 
the other hand, the very happily organized individual 
frequently achieves great things without any education 
at all. The organization may be aptly termed the 
internal school of man. Hence, however, it by no 
means follows, that it is the soul itself, and that the 
body is the entire man ; on the contrary, this serves 
rather to confirm the opinion that there must be a 
particular something in the body, which there feels 
and thinks. If this something, to which, as I believe, 
the faculty of feeling and the faculty of thinking 
essentially belong, is associated with an unhappy 
organization, it cannot duly cultivate those faculties, 
and can never learn to feel and think justly ; nay, 
when there are main defects in the organization, the 
individual may continue for life as if he possessed no 
thinking faculty. Give him in idea an organization 
free from defect, and he shall be a shining example of 
sensibility and wisdom. The organization it is, by 
means of which the feeling and thinking something 
feels and thinks. If this has been from the beginning 



42 IMMORTALITY, " 

in a proper state, the something learns to feel and 
think properly. It is just the same with this internal 
education as with the external. If good principles 
are instilled into an individual from his youth, he 
becomes a good man and performs good actions. But 
is it afterwards the collection of good principles, the 
good moral system of instruction itself, that performs 
the good actions, or is it not the man who performs 
them by virtue of his principles ? Well, in like man- 
ner, it is not the happy organization which experiences 
the just feelings and thinks the just thoughts, but the 
man, the man properly so called, the I, which feels 
and thinks them by virtue of the organization. 

But do I not see daily instances that persons lose 
from paralytic affections the faculty of feeling, that a 
mere fever renders them for a time delirious, that 
diseases rob them of memory, and that a single blow 
on the head totally deprives them of understanding 
for life ? How is it here in regard to the particular 
something which, you say, feels and thinks in the 
body ? Is it not evident that the body is the man ? 

I should imagine that this objection has been al- 
ready answered by what goes before. If the organiza- 
tion is the medium through which this something 
endued with the faculty of feeling and thinking in 
the body learns to feel and think, and afterwards 
continues to feel and think ; this something can feel 
and think justly so long only as that medium is in 
a proper state for it. Can I see clearly in a fog ? If 
I cannot, does it thence follow that 1 have lost the 



OR ANNIHILATION. 43 

faculty of seeing clearly ? Let the fog disperse, and I 
shall see as well as ever. If defects of a temporary 
or permanent nature take place in the organization 
itself; or in that which is immediately connected with 
it ; the feeling and thinking something loses, not the 
faculty of feeling and thinking justly, but it can only 
no longer use its faculty properly or perhaps at all. 

For the rest, the loss of feeling in paralysis is con- 
fined to the paralysed parts, and there are instances 
that when the partial paralysis has remained, the sen- 
sibility of the rest of the body has become so much 
the more perfect; just as if the feeling something, 
because it had less to feel, could pay the more atten- 
tion to the sensations that are left to it. Injuries of 
the head have frequently been remedied by means of 
the trepan ; not that the faculty of thinking has been 
restored by the trepan, but by means of it that instru- 
ment by which alone the thinking faculty can manifest 
its activity has been set to rights. As to the loss of 
memory by disease, there are extraordinary instances 
of this, which confirm the existence of a something in 
the body that possesses also the faculty of memory. 
One person merely lost the recollection of a certain 
series of ideas and faithfully retained the remembrance 
of every thing else. Another became incapable of 
retaining proper names only. A third could not learn 
any thing new, but perfectly remembered what he had 
previously learned. Is it not evident that in these 
cases it was only the instrument which had in certain 
respects become unserviceable, but that the faculty of 



44 IMMORTALITY, 

memory itself was not impaired, because it still mani- 
fested itself in other respects the same as before? 
Were I disposed to attribute this faculty of remem- 
brance to the brain, I must imagine it as being com- 
posed of particles, some of which had been destroyed. 
But is this reasonable ? Is it not far more reasonable 
to infer a something that possesses the faculty of 
memory, and can no longer exercise it in every case 
from the defect of the instrument ? It would then be 
just in the same predicament as a letter placed before 
me, half of which some one covers, so that I cannot 
read any farther than down to his hand. 

But — how is it with sleep ? Does not this decide 
that Man is nothing but body ? 

Neither does that extraordinary state of man, sleep, 
shake my belief. All the functions which the body 
performs merely by means of its curious construction 
continue in sleep ; the arbitrary, as they are called, 
are alone wanting. But the same person who has 
slept, and, according to the testimony of all who saw 
him asleep, performed no arbitrary actions, relates on 
awaking a long dream, in which, as he believes, he 
performed a hundred arbitrary actions or more. In 
like manner all real sensations cease in sleep. The 
dreaming sleeper nevertheless frequently has, in his 
opinion, numberless at times agreeable, at others dis- 
agreeable, sensations. He falls in a dream into the 
hands of murderers — he acts in a dream the impas- 
sioned lover. Who dreams these sensations ? Who 
dreams those arbitrarv motions ? The organization ? 



OR ANNIHILATION. 45 

Here arises the question : Do you figure to your- 
self, in this term, a double organization, a grosser and 
a finer, or not? If not, and you confine your idea 
to one, sleep must consist in a relaxation, an unser - 
viceableness, and an inactivity, of the organization. 
How then can one and the same thing be at once 
inactive and active? But, if we assume a two-fold 
organization, and make sleep consist only in a relaxa- 
tion of the grosser, which is certainly the case ; then 
it is impossible to conceive by what means the finer, 
which, in a waking state, if there is not a something 
above it in the body, is set in motion merely by the 
grosser, may be set in motion in a state of sleep. 
And thus arbitrary actions and feelings dreamt in 
sleep would be quite as much out of the question as 
real ones. But if in addition to the two organizations 
I assume a superior something, both the dreams and 
the absence of arbitrary motions and real sensations in 
sleep are accounted for. The grosser organization is 
relaxed and unfit to perform its functions ; therefore 
the sensitive something cannot have any real sensa- 
tions. It can, nevertheless, set the finer in motion, 
and thereby obtain images of really felt sensations — 
that is to say, dream. Were it to be urged, that in 
this case it must, as when awake, be capable of per- 
forming arbitrary actions, since it need only, as in 
waking, set the finer organization in motion for that 
purpose, which would then communicate its motion as 
usual to the grosser ; this answer follows, that the 



46 IMMORTALITY, 

grosser, during sleep, is unfit for the reception of this 
communicated motion. 

The state of sleep then, instead of throwing a 
suspicion upon the existence of a particular some- 
thing in the body, would perhaps be the very thing, 
if extremely careful observations were made upon it, 
to place the matter beyond all doubt. We did not 
continue, for example, to dream on about that with 
which we were engaged till the moment of falling 
asleep. This, however, must have been the case, if 
the dream had been a mere work of the organization. 
The dream, on the contrary, is often not only quite 
unconnected with the events of the last hour, but also 
with the occurrences of the whole day. It does not 
always happen that the most vivid impressions, or 
ideas that were of the highest importance to us, are 
continued. How often have I meditated most in- 
tently on the most serious subject till I have retired to 
rest, and afterwards dreamt the whole night of nothing 
but sensible objects ! How often, after listening to 
music for three or four hours, have I gone straight to 
bed, and my dream has been of a journey, or a 
literary discussion ! 

Neither is every dream a confused medley of images 
and ideas, such as the mere organization would throw 
together. I recollect having in a dream written 
letters and made speeches, which were perfectly cohe- 
rent and highly elaborated, and which on awaking I 
could partially recollect. I have spoken with fluency 
languages, in which I can merely read books. I have 



OR ANNIHILATION. 47 

found myself in company with persons whom I only 
know by name, and whom I have never seen in my 
life. 

It is impossible to account for all these things on 
the principle of the mere organization. I am com- 
pelled therefore to assume a something besides that 
in the body, which, when the grosser organization is 
inactive, can operate the more freely on the finer ; 
a something which possesses the power of re-arrang- 
ing, even altering and recomposing former impressions 
and images, which the finer organization, being set in 
motion, again presents ; a something that can work 
up these old impressions and images, till they have 
the appearance of being absolutely new. To me it is 
indifferent what this something is called. Whether it 
be called souly or mindy or / — according to my con- 
viction, it must exist. 



I 



48 IMMORTALITY", 



SIXTH MEDITATION. 

IF THERE IS A SOUL ATTACHED TO THE BODY, 
MUST IT NOT OF NECESSITY PERISH WITH THE 
BODY ? 

*'Well then/' methinks some one says with a 
smile, "as I believe in the existence of the body, 
so, to please you, I will likewise believe in the exist- 
ence of a soul in union with the body. But, on your 
part, as you believe in the annihilation of the body, 
you must also believe in the annihilation of this soul 
at the same time with the body. As it fares with one 
so it must absolutely fare with the other. There is 
no intrinsic possibility that the soul should last longer 
than the body. With death sensation ceases like 
respiration, and thought like the circulation of the 
blood : and as the body is annihilated for ever, so 
sensation and the faculty of thought are annihilated 
for ever, like breathing and pulsation." 

If that is the case, if there is no intrinsic possibility 
of the existence of the soul after the dissolution of 
the body, there is again an end to my meditations ; 



OR ANNIHILATION. 49 

and it must be folly to prosecute my reflections on the 
reality of a future state. It is clear that the internal 
possibility of a thing is no evidence of its reality ; 
but it is still clearer, that a rational person would not 
think of the latter without the' former. 

It is true — I firmly believe, that the soul cannot 
exist without body. What it is I know not ; but 
that, if it has no body, it cannot belong to any world, 
that is, cannot inhabit any of the orbs comprised in 
the system of the universe, and that still less is it 
capable of feeling and thinking without body, is my 
unalterable conviction, which is not to be shaken 
even by the question — What, upon this principle, be- 
comes of God ? God is universally acknowledged to 
be incomprehensible. But do I not myself hereby 
admit that the soul ceases to feel and think, as soon 
as the body, or at least its organization, is destroyed ? 
And is not this equivalent to the assertion that the 
soul itself ceases to exist with the body ? 

How was that? Here must be some mistake. 
There it is ! when I said, that the soul cannot exist 
without body, that it cannot feel and think but in a 
body; I did not assert that the soul cannot exist 
without this body, and that it cannot feel and think 
but in this body. 

Even by this I gain nothing. If it were conceiv- 
able that the soul could obtain another body, in the 
strict sense of the expression — but to me that is 
wholly inconceivable — I am aware that this would be 
of no benefit. Unless at least the chief element of 



50 IMMOI^TALITY, 

this body be left to it, the soul cannot have any 
consciousness of its identity. It would seem then 
not as if it were continuing to exist, but as if it were 
beginning for the first time to exist. 

Here an idea occurs to me. My body is inces- 
santly changing. It is constantly losing old particles 
and receiving new ones by means of fpod. To-day it 
is not precisely the same as it was yesterday ; and 
when I compare it with the body which I had twelve 
years ago, it is certainly, I may say, an entirely new 
one. In this sense I might assert that it is already 
the third body which I have at present. If the 
duration of the soul depended on this gross body, it 
must also change with the body. I myself should 
therefore be in my third existence. This, however, 
cannot be; for I perfectly recollect circumstances 
which occurred ten, twenty years ago, and yet know 
all that I learned in my whole life. If the / changed 
with the body, it would be obliged to go to school 
again every twelve years. As this is not necessary, 
and as the soul, without retaining some of the ele- 
mentary principle of the former body, could not have 
the consciousness that it was still the same ; the body 
itself must contain something which is not exposed 
to its daily vicissitudes. As then this is not exposed 
to the gradual change, so it need not absolutely be 
exposed to the ultimate real dissolution of the body? 
but may become in death the ground-work of a new 
body. By such an arrangement at least the in- 
trinsic impossibility of the existence of the s©ul after 



OR ANNIHILATION. 51 

death is removed. The soul may be destined to exist 
after death ; but this does not authorise the inference 
that such actually is its destination. 

A somewhat similar result seems to me to spring 
from the following observation. I know not only 
what I saw and heard ten or twenty years ago, not- 
withstanding the great changes which my body has 
since undergone ; but, were I this moment to become 
deaf and blind, I should retain all the ideas of what I 
had seen and heard up to the present time. The ex- 
ample of all those to whom this misfortune has hap- 
pened affords evidence of this. They acquire not 
indeed any new ideas of visible and audible objects, 
and in like manner they would never have acquired 
any had they been born blind and deaf; but those 
which they have previously received they firmly retain. 
Do we not in this case clearly discover a certain inde- 
pendence of the finer organization on the grosser? 
Must this extend precisely to death and no farther ? 

May not sleep, and more especially sound sleep, as 
it is called, be here once more adduced as an argument 
in support of the opinion of those, who assign the same 
lot in death to soul and body ?. 

I have seen, with my own eyes, a man, who had the 
character of being so sound a sleeper that nothing 
could disturb him, taken out of his bed, carried three 
times round about the house and then replaced. We 
said nothing to him about the matter, and he conse- 
quently rose in the belief that he had not stirred since 
he lay down. May it not be the same with a dead 
E 2 



52 IMMORTALITY, 

person ; if he were left lying in bed and could come 
to life again at the expiration of ten years, would he 
not then believe that he was recovering ? But this 
example is irrelevant to the present case; for the 
sleeper in question related to us that he dreamt he was 
travelling to Constantinople. Thus, while he was be- 
ing carried about the house he imagined that he was 
performing a journey ; and it is still a question whe- 
ther this dream was not actually occasioned by his 
being really carried about. 

But I am acquainted with still more striking facts. 
The present clerk of my parish once fell asleep at the 
conclusion of the last verse but one of the hymn sung 
just before the sermon. After sleeping a good half- 
hour, he awoke before the sermon was over, and imme- 
diately began singing the last verse of the hymn. — My 
last steward was seated at his table writing a letter to 
me, when an apoplexy instantaneously put an end to 
his life. — Must I not consider both as being in the 
same predicament ; and would not the steward, were 
he to come to life again a hundred years hence, continue 
writing where he left off when surprised by death ;— -just 
as the clerk began to sing again where he had ceased 
on falling asleep ? — How often it has happened to my- 
self in winter nights, that, after retiring to rest about 
half past eleven, I have on awaking heard the clock 
strike three quarters, and imagined that I had been in 
bed but a quarter of an hour ; yet on looking at my 
watch I have found that it wanted a quarter of six. 
How, if this were really an image of the state of death, 



OR ANNIHILATION. 53 

and if sleep and death differed not only like less and 
more, but like shorter and longer ? Was it not for 
this reason that the ancients denominated death the 
everlasting sleep ? 

It is true when I look at a person sleeping soundly 
and a corpse, at a little distance, they both appear alike. 
But must two things which appear alike necessarily be 
alike ? I recollect well what pains my old tutor used 
to take to prove that the curious architecture of the 
beaver, though bearing externally a great resemblance 
to that of Man, is nevertheless in itself totally diffe- 
rent, inasmuch as Man is governed in his operations 
by reason, but the beaver only by something that is 
the shadow of reason. If it could be proved, from a 
comparison of sleep with death, that death is a sus- 
pension of the thinking faculty for ever, then sleep 
must be a suspension of the thinking faculty for a 
time. It is manifest that sleep is not so, and thus we 
compare things which are not to be compared. The 
sleeper dreams ; he who sleeps the soundest frequently 
dreams in the strictest sense of the word ; that is, he 
connects together mere lively images of his fancy, over 
which the external world has not the slightest influ- 
ence : whereas he who sleeps lightly receives feeble 
impressions of what is passing around him with any 
degree of vehemence, and introduces them into his 
dreams. Nay, we have evidences that certain states 
of the body have an influence upon the dreams of 
even the soundest sleeper ; and, on the other hand, 
that certain dreams affect the body. How often the 



54 IMMORTALITY, 

delighted dreamer laughs in the soundest sleep ! How 
his heart throbs, how rapidly his pulse beats, when he 
finds himself in the hands of robbers, or in a violent 
storm at sea ! How the tears roll down his cheeks 
when he beholds in a dream the object of his affection 
struggling with death ! And, what shall we say to it, 
that the sleeper in the midst of the most terrific dream 
reminds himself that it is but a dream, and thereby 
puts an end at once to his imaginary sufferings? 
This circumstance has frequently happened to my- 
self. 

Taking all this together, I cannot perceive how any 
thing can be inferred from the state of sleep in favour 
of the opinion that the dissolution of the soul must be 
necessarily connected with the dissolution of the body. 
The sleeper continues to think — he dreams. No doubt 
every one dreams when he sleeps, and if every one 
cannot tell whether and what he dreamt, that is by no 
means a proof of the contrary. As we frequently re- 
member the whole of our dream in the first hour after 
waking, and in the second have entirely forgotten 
it, so also we may forget it immediately on awaking. 
This depends solely on the greater or less importance 
of the dream. How would it otherwise happen that 
we are sometimes reminded, perhaps in the middle of 
the day, by something similar that occurs, of a dream 
of the preceding night ; though during the whole fore- 
noon we did not know that we had dreamt ? 

As to the old clerk who fell asleep in the church, 
and began singing lustily in the middle of the sermon. 



OR ANNIHILATION. 55 

to the no small amusement of the whole congregation, 
he made the following excuse to the rector, who took 
him severely to task for the interruption. It seemed 
all at once, he said, as if he could not find the third 
verse of the hymn — that is, he fell asleep ; — he was 
exceedingly troubled on this account, and kept singing 
the hymn over again from the beginning — that is, he 
dreamt so ; — at length he found the third verse and 
continued singing — that is, he awoke. Without this 
account the matter might in my opinion be very easily 
explained. His finding himself when he awoke in the 
same place and in the presence of the congregation 
was the principal point. Had his place been mean- 
while changed ; had he been carried home and put to 
bed, he would certainly not have gone on singing the 
third verse when he awoke. In fact, the last sensible 
impression he had was that he had finished the second 
verse ; and as on awaking he beheld before him the 
same congregation, the last sensible impression which 
he had was also awakened in him, and knowing that 
a verse was yet wanting, he immediately began it in 
his anxiety. — But it does not thence follow that the 
steward must absolutely be in the same predicament. 
The latter may certainly have finally ceased to exist 
when he died, and if this is the case and he could 
ever, in the strict sense of the term, come to life again, 
he would certainly do like the clerk and go on writ- 
ing, for then the last sensible impression which he 
had of writing would be revived in him. But should 
merely his grosser organization have been destroyed 



56 IMMORTALITY, 

by death, and he now be connected by his finer with a 
finer sensible world ; he would, were he to return to 
this grosser sensible world, know full well, from the 
series of more recent sensible impressions which he 
has experienced, that it is a long time since he began 
to write the letter to me, and that of course it would 
be quite unnecessary for him to finish it. 

As to my own mistake in regard to the time I had 
been in bed, it proves nothing more than that I had 
not meanwhile measured time. My notion that I had 
slept but a quarter of an hour proceeded from the 
accidental circumstance, that the first thing I heard 
on awaking was the clock striking three quarters. 
But for this, I should have supposed that I had only 
just fallen asleep. In short, I had even then been 
dreaming, and was prevented only by the unservice- 
ableness of my grosser organization from observing 
the changes and events succeeding one another in the 
external world. In this however consists the whole 
idea of time. Should now the finer organization be 
capable of subsisting in death without the grosser, I 
might be able to notice by means of it the events and 
changes succeeding each other in a finer external world, 
and consequently to measure time, as at present. Of 
course no inference in regard to death could be drawn 
from sleep. In sleep the finer organization does not 
come into immediate contact with the external world, 
because the grosser forms a kind of partition between 
it and the world. The dreamer has no conceptions of 
time and place, nor can he have any. In dreaming, 



OR ANNIHILATION. 57 

therefore, we blend together earlier and later occur- 
rences, and are one moment at home and the next a 
hundred miles off. 

Sleep seems then in no case whatever to prove the 
intrinsic impossibility of the existence of the soul after 
death, or the opinion that the soul must perish at 
the same time with the body. I see that the finer 
organization continues to operate when the grosser is 
wholly inoperative. Should any one reply that this 
may well be the case now, because the grosser orga- 
nization is supported by aliments, and in like manner 
the finer by the grosser, and as the conservation of 
the former cannot be conceived as possible without 
the conservation of the latter : so also it is not yet 
demonstrated that the finer cannot possibly be sup- 
ported but by the grosser. At present to be sure it 
must, as it is yet enveloped by the grosser ; but does 
it thence follow that, if it were next to the external 
world as the grosser at present is, it might not receive 
its support from the external world just as well as the 
latter ? As yet indeed it is only the most subtle par- 
ticles of the aliments that fall to its share. Are then 
these particles to be sought in the alimentary sub- 
stances alone ? or may they not be diff'used through- 
out the universe ? and may they not, without being 
conveyed to it precisely through the alimentary sub- 
stances, reach it in ten other ways which may still be 
unknown to us? 

But here I am met by a consideration, which seems 
at the first blush to furnish irrefragable evidence that 



58 IMMORTALITY, 

the soul experiences in death the same fate as the 
body. 

Did the soul exist before the body ? or did it begin 
to exist at the same time with the body ? If the for- 
mer were the case, I would ask — what it had been 
previously, where it had been, how long, &c. ? I am 
myself of opinion that the soul cannot exist without 
body ; of course all these questions are superfluous, 
and upon my own principle it follows, that it first be- 
gan to exist with the body or perhaps not till after the 
body. Would it not thence necessarily follow, that as 
it began to exist with the body so it must also cease 
to exist with the body ? A question of the last impor- 
tance, I allow. 

The whole history of the human mind favours this 
opinion, and experience seems manifestly to confirm it. 
What is the new-born infant ? Is it much better than 
a mere lump of flesh ? Is it in the least superior to a 
human sensitive plant ? And though it is said by its 
cries immediately after its birth to express the pain oc- 
casioned by the unwonted sensation of breathing : 
still we must assume a period at which it first began 
to feel in the womb — and the state of the infant there 
must be much the same as that of the chick in the 
eggi which has been most minutely observed. By and 
by we see that the child begins by degrees to notice the 
things around it. In time it learns to distinguish ex- 
ternal objects. As it grows older we perceive that it 
forms ideas of them, and perfects these ideas more 
and more. It is now a boy and manifests a desire of 



OR ANNIHILATION. 59 

knowledge. His understanding gradually expands. 
He becomes a youth and gains the commendations of 
his teachers. He is full of fire and spirit, because 
his body is approaching maturity. He arrives at 
manhood, and now that his body is completely deve- 
loped his mind too has attained its highest powers. 
Is it not evident that, in the same proportion as his 
body grows and acquires vigour, his soul too grows 
and acquires vigour ? Nay does not the develope- 
ment of the latter depend on the developement of the 
former ? 

At this its height of perfection the body does not 
long continue stationary, but its powers begin gra- 
dually to decline as they before advanced. And what 
more do I see? Why, that the soul declines also in the 
same ratio as the body becomes infirm. The fire which 
animated the actions of the individual subsides ; the 
vivacity of his feelings diminishes ; the memory will 
not receive fresh accessions of knowledge, nay the de- 
sire of it is extinct. The old man becomes dull in 
head and heart, and is again like the body that he was 
at first. In very advanced age he becomes a second 
time a child, and is once more amused with toys 
and trifles. His infirmities increase ; with the last 
powers of body he loses also the last remains of the 
powers of his mind, and henceforward he vegetates 
like a plant. The stoppage of the corporeal machine 
is at hand. The soul is now nothing more than life. 
Life changes to death. - - - Is it not clear as the sun 
at noon-day that the soul, which began to exist with 



60 IMMORTALITY, 

the body, was gradually developed with the body, and 
progressively declined with the body, also perishes en- 
tirely with the complete dissolution of the body ? 

What feeling is this that comes over me ! Can I 
find any thing to oppose to the convincing cogency of 
this' argument ? I know not. So then it would be 
one and the same thing whether the organization were 
the I, or whether the I were a peculiar something dis- 
tinct from the organization. In the former case I 
should perish in death merely as organization ; in the 
latter I should perish as a peculiar something together 
with the organization. Perish I must at all events ! 



OR ANNIHILATION. 61 



SEVENTH MEDITATION. 

CONTINUATION OF THE PRECEDING. 

The picture of the human mind which I yesterday 
delineated is by no means a faithful portraiture of it 
in general. The first half, which relates to the deve- 
lopement of the soul in the same ratio as the body is 
developed, may be correct ; for precocious children, if 
we do not trust entirely to report, but closely observe 
them with our own eyes, are after all only children. 
But the latter half, which represents the decline of the 
soul as keeping pace with the decline of the body, and 
which seemed to argue the entire dissolution of the 
soul with the dissolution of the body, has far too many 
exceptions to admit any incontrovertible argument to 
be deduced from it. 

I have myself known several old men of eighty 
years and upwards, whose minds seemed, as it were, 
to defy the decay of the body. The phenomena enu- 
merated above were not exhibited by them, and their 
minds continued to the last to display as much acti- 
vity and vigour as ever in all those occupations and 



62 IMMORTALITY, 

labours for which great bodily powers were not re- 
quired. I shall never forget a certain public function- 
ary of the first rank, who served his country for half 
a century with the most exemplary zeal and fidelity. 
It was not till his eighty-fifth year that he resigned 
his seat at the board where he had presided, not on 
account of any decline of his mental powers, but be- 
cause his sight and hearing began to be impaired. It 
was only half a year before his death that he finally 
resigned his appointment, by no means from inabi- 
lity to reflect and decide, but merely that he might 
appropriate to himself the close of a long life devoted 
to the public service, and prepare, as he said, for the 
great change of worlds. He was the father of a large 
family, and numbered sixty grand-children and great- 
grand-children. He celebrated his last birth-day with 
genuine piety, assembled around him all his descen- 
dants, gave them like Jacob his last blessing, and 
delivered a short but sound and aflfecting extempore 
address, which will endear his memory to them for 
ever. He survived a fortnight, during which he took 
no other sustenance than a little biscuit and wine. 
His weakness increased daily, so that at last his at- 
tendants were obliged to move his hands from one 
place to another. He had already lost his sight, and 
on the last day his hearing also entirely forsook him. 
He fixed very accurately the day and hour of his de- 
cease. " Now I am going," said he ; pronounced a 
short but most pertinent and pious prayer from his 
heart, and with the Amen, gently expired. 



OR ANN^IHILATION. 63 

These circumstances, which are well known to all 
ranks and classes in the country where they happened, 
cannot but excite my highest interest. On the same 
ground that opposite circumstances are thought to 
furnish evidence that the soul perishes together with 
the body, may this instance be considered as de- 
monstrating that the soul continues to exist notwith- 
standing the decline and dissolution of the body. 
Neither are such instances of persons retaining their 
mental energies in full vigour in advanced age by any 
means rare ; only they pass unnoticed, except in their 
own houses, unless they have been eminent public 
characters. The utmost that becomes generally known 
respecting them is, that they retained their faculties 
to the last, and spoke a few moments before they ex- 
pired. It were to be wished that circumstances of 
this kind were more carefully observed and recorded. 

In my opinion the cases of persons who die of old 
age, and those who die of consumption in early or 
middle life, are absolutely alike. In both we witness 
a gradual and complete decay of the body. Now, it is 
very common for the latter to retain their mental fa- 
culties to the last moment, so chat we perceive in them 
not only no proportionate decay, but no decay what- 
ever. On the contrary, it very often happens that 
the weaker the body the more vigorous the mind be- 
comes ; as we frequently find that the most ailing per- 
sons are the greatest geniuses. 

I had once a very dear friend, who was literally 
starved to death, owing to an obstruction of the upper 



64 IMMORTALITY, 

orifice of the stomach. During the last four weeks of 
his life he could not take the least sustenance. It is 
not to be expressed what energy of mind this man 
displayed throughout his lingering illness, and how it 
increased every day, so as to be truly wonderful at 
last, when his whole body was already quite cold. 
He was a fortnight in dying. At the same time he 
made the minutest observations on himself, and could 
always describe to the physicians to a hair's breadth 
what progress death had made since their preceding 
visit. He left a wife and six children ; and never can 
I recollect without deep emotion with what fortitude 
he strove to console them for his early decease, and 
how much more soothing was the comfort he adminis- 
tered, the nearer the day approached on which they 
were to lose him. " Now my hands and my feet are 
dead" — " Now death has advanced to my knees and my 
elbows" — '' Now all is dead as far as my shoulders and 
my hips" — Such were the accounts that he gave me 
when I called to see him. At the same time he would 
converse on the most important concerns of man and 
on domestic matters with the same interest, the same 
soundness of judgment, and the same consistency, as 
in the days of his best health. " Now my ears too are 
dead and you must speak to me by signs," said he, the 
day before he expired. On the last, when I went to 
him, he articulated with some difficulty : " My sight 
has been gone since midnight. Then the lamp went 
out — but only for me. Death is already seizing my 
tongue. Leave me alone for a few moments, that I 



OR ANNIHILATION. 65 

may once more make a truly worthy use of it. Then 
come back and put my hands in one another ; I will 
die praying, and as a sign that I am dying, I will open 
my closed eyes — that is, if I can. I should like to 
turn them in death towards heaven, though I can no 
longer see it with them." — We left him and he prayed, 
as far as we could understand what he said, so affect- 
ingly, that we all fell on our knees and joined with 
fervent devotion in his aspirations. When we returned 
to him, he smiled with closed eyes, from which we 
concluded that he had by this time lost the use of his 
tongue. 1 placed his hands as he had desired. A 
solemn silence ensued, and every one watched for the 
promised opening of his eyes ; but he was not able to 
give the sign. A tremulous motion only was observed 
in the eyelids, accompanied with a still more heavenly 
smile. It was as though I read at this moment in his 
countenance the last blessing for his family and the 
last thought of God. His head sunk and — he was no 
more ! 

Circumstances of this kind, attending the death 
both of aged and of young persons who retain their 
mental faculties unimpaired till the last^ must obvi- 
ously invalidate the evidence in favour of the total 
dissolution of the mind with the total dissolution of 
the body, deduced from the death of others, in whom 
a proportionate decay of mind with that of the body 
is conceived to be discoverable. In the former this 
proportionate decay of the mind does not in reality 
take place, but rather the contrary. 



66 IMMORTALITY, 

Supposing, however, that all who die without dis- 
tinction exhibited one and the same spectacle of a 
proportionate decay of mind and body; still, on far- 
ther consideration, I cannot think that the necessity 
of the total dissolution of the mind with the total dis- 
solution of the body would thence absolutely follow. 
The decay of the body is something real; but the 
decay of the mind might perhaps be merely something 
apparent. It might perhaps only seem to us as if the 
mental faculties declined, because we see them act 
with less and less vigour. But the decline of their ex- 
pression, consequent on the decline of the proper qua- 
lity of both organizations, would not be a decline of 
themselves. In old age the feelings are said to be 
blunted. Does this mean, that the aged lose the fa- 
culty of feeling itself? — or does it not rather signify 
that their grosser organization is gradually losing its 
proper tone? It is likewise asserted that the aged 
are dull of thought. Must this mean, that they lose 
the thinking faculty ? — or may it not also signify, 
that their finer organization is gradually becoming 
more imperfect ? It seems to me to be a parallel case 
with that of a first-rate musician who is required to 
play on a bad instrument. Woe betide him if a judg- 
ment is thence formed of his abilities ! But take only 
an ordinary player and set him down to a piano-forte, 
half the strings of which are broken and the other half 
out of tune — 

The question here would be merely this : — whether, 
in like manner as the finer organization would become 



OR ANNIHILATION. 67 

more imperfect in the same proportion as the grosser 
becomes so, the finer must of necessity be totally de- 
stroyed when the grosser is totally destroyed, and 
what in this case would become of the mind, the ex- 
istence of which without any organization is not to be 
conceived ? 

To this I might reply : — Now, that the grosser or- 
ganization envelopes the finer, the latter certainly is 
dependent on the former, and cannot be invigorated, 
nourished, and supported, by any thing but that : but 
how would it be, if the finer itself were the nearest to 
the external world as the grosser is at present ? Might 
it not then receive its support and nourishment from 
the external world, just in the same manner as the 
grosser now derives support from it? In this case, 
if it were to derive support immediately from the ex- 
ternal world, instead of receiving it as at present 
through the medium of the grosser, and being obliged 
to take it, however bad it may be, just as it is fur- 
nished by the latter, would it not, when released from 
the grosser, take it immediately in the highest perfec- 
tion? What a glorious prospect would then await 
every individual in death ! Thus the moment when 
the thinking power would seem to be totally extinct, 
would be closely followed by that when this power 
would re-appear perfect, nay perhaps more perfect 
than ever. 

It might here be alleged, that this bold opinion is 
overthrown by the examples of the aged and of those 
who die of consumption, which I have myself adduced. 
F 2 



6S IMMORTALITY, 

Whence, it might be asked, in these the continued 
perfect state of the finer organization amid the most 
lamentable decay of the grosser, if the finer cannot at 
present be supported but by the grosser ? With them 
the finer was not yet nearest to the external world. 

Perhaps, however, even this question may be an- 
swered ; perhaps the answer may lead to ideas which 
are of importance to the whole human race, and which 
trench deeply into the heart of moral philosophy. Be 
it, and be it called, what it will, that conveys the 
grosser organization to the finer, and as it were filters 
and deposits for it, and that keeps the latter in a 
proper state : would it involve an intrinsic contradic- 
tion, were we to assume that, if this nutriment, which 
has been duly supplied for a period of thirty or of 
sixty years, has been meanwhile husbanded with pro- 
per economy, a kind of provision might be formed 
which would suffice to keep the finer organization in a 
good state for a considerable time, though the grosser 
should contribute little, and indeed next to nothing, 
towards it ? Does not experience seem to tally with 
this notion ? How is it that sometimes persons of the 
age of eighty or ninety years, who have all along dis- 
played astonishing powers of mind, suddenly lose their 
energies, their judgment, their memory, nay the very 
faculty of thought, although no great, at least no per- 
ceptible deterioration has taken place in their outward 
state, to occasion this change ? May not their well- 
husbanded store be all at once exhausted ? 

If there is nothing unreasonable in this idea, what 



OR ANNIHILATION. 69 

is there to forbid my entertaining it ? Wherein then 
would consist the art of husbanding such an invaluable 
provision ? Or, on the other hand, what is it that 
steals and squanders this provision of the soul against 
old age ? Unquestionably this robber, this prodigal 
is — sensuality. That this affects the finer organiza- 
tion far more than the grosser, is attested by nine out 
of ten instances of its votaries who have degraded 
themselves beneath the level of brutes. Are not these 
almost invariably distinguished by the want of un- 
derstanding, of judgment, of resolution, of presence of 
mind, nay even of memory, and of still humbler moral 
pov/ers ? In such persons does not the body fre- 
quently continue to retain for a long time all its 
plumpness, all its muscle and fat? Nay, are there 
not voluptuaries who increase in bulk in the same pro- 
portion as they become more stupid and brutal ? And 
if moreover the public and private history of the lives 
of our old men daily proves, that those who lived tem- 
perately in youth and middle age retain a sound unr 
derstanding to the last, while such of them as have 
been debauchees sink into a long second childhood — 
how can I still doubt the accuracy of my opinion ? 

O men, men ! it is your doom once to die, and ye 
cannot avoid it ; but ye are not doomed of necessity 
to a second childhood ! That ye may avoid, if ye 
will ; and ought not all your efforts throughout your 
whole lives to tend to this point ? Is there then either 
honour or pleasure in merely living to be old ? or do 
not all the pleasure and all the honour consist in 



70 IMMORTALITY, 

living according to reason? Amid the grossest de- 
baucheries ye may indeed attain old age ; for strong 
constitutions become in time inured to any thing : 
but what kind of old age will it be ? For a long time 
a mere animal life ; and in the end an absolutely vege- 
table life. Spare your finer organization ; husband 
the provision for its sustenance ; and whenever ye 
are tempted to waste it irrationally, hold up to your- 
selves the deplorable, nay contemptible and ludicrous 
picture ye shall present, twenty or perhaps fifty years 
hence ! 

Should man continue to exist after death, it is very 
possible that those who, through sensuality, have made 
dreadful ravages in their finer organization, may ex- 
hibit traces of it in the other world — traces that may 
long remain perceptible, or even perhaps never be 
erased. What a copious source of arguments against 
the unbridled indulgence of the passions the moralist 
may find in this conjecture, does not come within the 
scope of my present meditations. 

In short, I have convinced myself, that the ordinary 
notion of the decay of the mind with the decay of the 
body does not invalidate the possibility of the con- 
tinued existence of the mind, notwithstanding the 
final and complete dissolution of the body. It is in 
no case absolutely necessary that the soul must perish 
together with the body. I will therefore cheerfully 
prosecute my meditations, and review all the argu- 
ments I am acquainted with, by which men of uni- 
versally acknowledged excellence have endeavoured 



OR ANNIHILATION. 71 

to convince themselves and others of a future state. 
At the same time I will conscientiously weigh all that 
has been said by equally virtuous men, or that may be 
advanced, on the other side of the question. What- 
ever be the result — something or nothing — I must be 
content. 



72 IMMORTALITY, 



EIGHTH MEDITATION. 

FIRST ARGUMENT OF REASON IN BEHALF OF A 
FUTURE STATE. 

The earth which we inhabit is at the same time the 
abode of numerous, of yet unnumbered, nay perhaps 
of innumerable species of animated beings. It is evi- 
dent, from the most superficial observation, that it 
was designed to be so — or, wherefore in its hollows 
such immense reservoirs of water ? — wherefore the 
manifold diversity in the form of the heights that 
project above the surface of the deep? — wherefore the 
inexpressible variety in the vegetable kingdom, of 
which but a very small portion is subservient to the 
support of Man? It was manifestly intended that 
the largest possible mass of life should exist on the 
earth. If we farther consider, that there is no animal 
of any kind which is not preyed upon by others, we 
shall be still more thoroughly convinced of the truth 
of this position. Thus, the future food itself was 
destined to have animation, that, till it was required 



OR ANNIHILATION. 73 

for food, it might contribute to augment the quantity 
of life. 

For every species of living beings upon the earth 
suitable enjoyments are provided. None of them has 
been denied its share, but to none have so many been 
allotted as to Man. To him, indeed, belongs by right 
the largest portion ; for not only is he susceptible of 
more pleasures than his fellow-beings, but he is also 
more deserving of them, because he alone transforms 
the earth into one vast garden ; for, without his care 
a few favoured spots only would present that ap- 
pearance. 

Since, according to this arrangement, the happiness 
of the other animated beings must exist at the same 
time with that of Man, his felicity for that very reason, 
cannot be complete; it cannot be undisturbed and 
unalloyed with pain. Many of the incidents in nature 
which tend to their benefit are prejudicial to him, 
because their constitution and economy are essentially 
different from his : — nay it is solely to the mischief 
they do him that many of them owe their preservation 
and enjoyments. Sorrow, therefore, is inseparable 
from the life of Man. 

His own nature furnishes the second proof of this 
so disagreeable position. The same moral and phy- 
sical constitution which renders him susceptible of 
such a multitude of pleasures, is also the source of 
endless mortifications. His body is indeed most in- 
geniously constructed, but for this very reason its 
machinery is most liable to be deranged. The circle 



74 IMMORTALITY, 

of his possessions is indeed the most extensive; but as 
these possessions are all subject to uncertainty, vicissi- 
tude, and change, he is consequently exposed to the 
most losses and dangers. His understanding, it is 
true, qualifies him exclusively for the feeling of the 
sublime and beautiful, for the relish of what is excel- 
lent and perfect ; but it likewise forces upon him the 
most painful impressions, produced by the disorder, 
vice, and wickedness, which present themselves to his 
view. His inward sympathy, as it were, multiplies 
his existence, and enables him, happy in himself, to 
participate in the happiness of others; but it also 
makes their misfortunes his own, and thus em.bitters 
or perhaps wholly extinguishes the grateful sensation 
of his individual felicity. Hence sorrow is inseparable 
from the life of Man. 

Human society in which he is placed affords the 
third proof of the truth of this assertion. Man must 
dwell among his kind, if he would be truly man. So- 
ciety alone cultivates his exalted faculties — and what 
bliss is it for him to live among the wise and the 
virtuous, to enjoy the happiness of their friendship, 
and in conjunction with them to accomplish much 
more good than he could have performed alone ! All 
men, however, are not wise and virtuous. Thus he 
grows weary of living among fools from whom social 
relations will not permit him to extricate himself; 
and he shudders at the sight of the wicked which he 
cannot wholly avoid. Envy and hatred pursue him, 
because he cannot gratify all, or perhaps because he 



OR ANNIHILATION. 75 

possesses advantages superior to many. To-day he 
clasps, as he believes, a friend to his bosom, and 
loads him with kindness — to-morrow he is repaid for 
it with the foulest ingratitude. He sets on foot some 
important plan for the public benefit, under the idea 
that he cannot fail to receive universal support ; and 
all combine to obstruct his operations. He is calum- 
niated, neglected, forgotten. His interests clash with 
the interests of ten others ; he is consequently in- 
volved in endless quarrels and contention. He has to 
suffer as a part for the whole, and feels it necessary 
to make sacrifices, at one time for truth which is 
obnoxious to his contemporaries; at another for in- 
nocence in order to rescue it from oppression, or for 
justice which is in danger of being trampled under 
foot — now for his country, now for his family. In 
the bosom of the latter he hopes to find a solace for 
all the inj uries which he sustains from society ; but 
alas ! the objects of his fondest affection indemnify 
him not — his wife perhaps proves faithless or his 
children degenerate. Sorrow therefore is inseparable 
from the life of Man. 

Though Man feels the heavy burden which oppresses 
him and sighs on account of it, yet he sighs by no 
means so much and so loudly as might be expected. 
Hov/ is this to be accounted for ? How happens it 
that we see so many unfortunate persons, who, when 
the first shock communicated by their losses is past, 
speedily recover themselves, apparently forget their 
calamities, and manifest even in the midst of them 



76 IMMORTALITY, 

unruffled cheerfulness and tranquillity? Whence is 
it that we see many whose sufferings extort our pity 
scarcely heave a sigh or breathe a murmur, but 
display a fortitude that is truly extraordinary ? 

It is certainly not the idea that their condition is 
unalterable which produces this effect. That idea 
could but serve at best eventually to harden the 
sufferer ; yet it is not obduracy that we discover in 
these unfortunates, but serenity. Now, serenity springs 
not from fear of the immutability of an unhappy 
situation, but from hope that this situation will 
change, from the confident belief in a better futurity. 
In this hope, in this belief, lies in fact the source of 
the composure of the majority of the afflicted. They 
know from experience that not prosperity alone, but 
adversity also is subject to vicissitude ; that not only 
do bad times follow good, but good again succeed 
bad ; and that as there are losses, so also are there 
compensations for losses. The husbandman whose 
crops are destroyed by storms shudders at the first 
sight of his devastated fields ; but imagination soon 
transports him into the coming year, when his land, 
superabundantly fertilized by the wreck occasioned by 
his present misfortune, will yield a double or even 
triple crop. The wretch whose house is consumed by 
fire wrings his hands in agony when he hears the 
crackling of the flames ; but it is not long before he 
begins to think that with the assistance of the be- 
nevolent he may build himself a better. He who has 
been cheated or robbed is at first incensed against 



OR ANNIHILATION. 77 

the villains who could use him so cruelly ; but at 
length he consoles himself with the reflection that in 
time he may retrieve his loss. The persecuted man 
hopes to find means to conciliate his enemies ; the 
object of envy conceives that he shall disarm those by 
whom he is envied, if he allows them to participate in 
his advantages ; he who is unjustly condemned doubts 
not that his innocence will yet be made manifest; 
the wounded know that wounds will heal again ; 
the sick, trusting to the skill of the physician and the 
efficacy of medicine, look forward to their recovery ; 
the poor in time of dearth expect relief from a plentiful 
season ; a whole nation, suffering under a profligate 
minister, cherish a confident assurance that their 
prince, moved by their complaints, will at length 
drive their oppressor from his presence ; half a hemi- 
sphere, desolated by war, anticipates the return of 
prosperity with peace, knowing that wars too must 
have a termination. Thus, thousands and tens of 
thousands of sufferers soothe themselves solely with 
the hope of a favourable change in their untoward 
circumstances. 

When this hope is wanting, some other consolation 
supplies its place to the afflicted ; so that, in every 
evil, of what nature soever it be, there is always 
something which, diminishes its unpleasant impressions 
and gradually restores tranquillity to the mind of 
the sufferer. Wherever there is nothing but un- 
merited misfortune, there too is consolation, and the 
consolation frequently arises out of the misfortune 



78 IMMORTALITY^ 

Itself. The dwarf receives money for the exhibition 
of his diminutive person; the valetudinarian finds 
some specific or other to afford him relief; the 
persecuted man is patronized by the enemies of his 
persecutors ; the patriot, whose services to his country 
are repaid with ingratitude, emigrates from it and in 
a foreign land acquires higher distinctions; the re- 
cluse attaches himself to the pleasures of nature or to 
books ; the schemer who has failed in one plan pro- 
jects another. The afflicted also understand the art 
of deriving some sort of profit from their misfortunes, 
and the very nature of those misfortunes assists them 
to do so ; for there is no loss imaginable from which 
there does not immediately result some gain of a 
different kind, though perhaps not of equal mag- 
nitude. 

If the sufferer possesses truly virtuous principles, 
he soon perceives that he may be rendered much 
wiser and better by his misfortunes. This, accordinsj 
to his view of things, is the greatest of all possible 
gains. Whether he attains this end by means of 
prosperity or of adversity is to him a matter of perfect 
indifference, so he does but attain it : nay, he is soon 
convinced that it is to be attained with greater cer- 
tainty by means of the latter than of the former. 
The more he feels conscious of his improvement in 
wisdom and virtue through his misfortune, with the 
greater fortitude he endures that misfortune. In short 
as the most pleasures are prepared for Man upon 



OR ANNIHILATION. 79 

earth, so are the most consolations likewise provided 
for him under affliction. 

So far then there is harmony and consistency in all 
the arrangements which have been made in his behalf. 
But how if he had no hope of a future state ? Where- 
withal could he then console himself on account of 
death ? What ! for all his other evils, nay even for 
imaginary ones, shall he have some comfort ; but for 
the greatest, the most essential, the evil of evils, shall 
he have no consolation ? — none whatever ? 

In this case he would in fact be destitute of all con- 
solation. The idea that things are not to be altered 
— that cheerless comfort, cannot soothe the human 
heart under a misfortune of any consequence, much 
less under the most severe that can possibly befal 
him ; and from all those sources whence, as we have 
seen, Man frequently derives tranquillity and content, 
not one ray of consolation is to be extracted by him 
in regard to death. 

You have heard, for example, that the majority of 
sufferers, when overtaken by affliction, pacify them- 
selves with the idea that as it came so it will go 
again ; just in the same manner as while the storm 
only yet lowers, they hope that it will not break, 
Hope is their cordial, their consolation. Now let us 
apply this principle to death — what have they to hope 
on that score ? — That it will never arrive ? — You can- 
not suppress a smile ; but you will no doubt recover 
all your gravity when I ask : — If there is no future 



80 IMMORTALITY, 

state what is left for Man in regard to death but 
absolute despair ? 

You have farther heard that, in every other affliction 
which admits not of hope, there is at least something 
at hand that diminishes the melancholy impressions 
which it produces ; and that this is more especially the 
case in unmerited misfortunes. Now search the whole 
world and you will not find any thing to diminish the 
most melancholy of all impressions — that of death — 
death equally inevitable and unmerited. Where could 
you expect to find it ? In your thoughts ? The 
thought of death is the strongest of any and chases 
away every other. — In your amusements? You would 
then resemble an idiot dancing about on one leg be- 
' neath a roof that threatens every moment to fall in 
and crush him. — In your possessions and your wealth ? 
The more of these you enjoy, the more inconsolable 
you will be under the necessity of parting from them. 
— In the arms of those you love ? Believe me if there 
is no future existence, no meeting again beyond the 
grave, no where will the thought of death agonize 
your heart more cruelly than in their embraces. 

You have lastly heard that virtuous sufferers know 
not any greater gain than the being rendered wiser 
and better, and that if they bear their afflictions with 
extraordinary fortitude, it is chiefly because from these 
they expect to derive that gain with the greatest cer- 
tainty. Tell me now, is it possible that Man can 
comfort himself in regard to death with the reflection 
that by means of it he shall become perfectly wise, 



OR A^'^NIHILATION'. 81 

perfectly virtuous ? — If you think so, you admit a 
future state after death. If, on the contrary, you will 
not admit a future state, this consolation, which has 
such efficacy for the virtuous sufferer under affliction, 
falls to the ground ; it is denied him in death — nay, 
not only in dearth, the last and the greatest of evils, 
but in every other evil which may previously befal 
him. In this case it is no gain for him to become 
wiser and better. For what purpose should he be- 
come so ? That death might at last find so much 
the more wisdom and virtue to destroy? 

The only conclusion therefore that can hence bo 
drawn is this : — As there is consolation for Man under 
every affliction, so there must likewise be consolation 
for him in regard to the greatest of all afflictions — 
death. And as he cannot have any other consolation 
for death than that which a future state affords, there 
must be a future state. 



82 IMMORTALITY, 



NINTH MEDITATION. 

ILLUSTRATION OF THE PRECEDING. 

Is it really the case, that for every evil which afflicts 
humanity there is always something at hand to 
lighten its weight? What is there to comfort him 
who has lost his sight for ever 1 — what to reconcile 
the cripple to his condition? — what to pacify the 
female disfigured by the small-pox ? What is there 
to alleviate the sufferings of one who is subject to the 
daily attack of an incurable epilepsy ; or of him who 
is continually haunted by some gloomy idea ; or of a 
third doomed to perpetual confinement in a subterra- 
nean dungeon ? Whence too proceed all those loud 
and incessant complaints which we are constantly 
hearing, and which are all proofs that the earth is 
not such a land of consolation as you would fain 
represent it ? 

This objection may be answered as follows : The 
blind man substitutes the senses of hearing and touch 
for his lost sight, and cultivates the latter in parti- 
cular. The cripple trusts to the aid of the strong and 



OR ANNIHILATION. 83 

hearty around him. The female, despoiled of her 
charms by a cruel disease, contrives to win esteem by 
the qualities of the head and heart. The person 
afflicted with epilepsy makes himself acquainted with 
the prognostics of its paroxysms. The hypochondriac 
dispels by travel the phantoms which torment him ; 
and the prisoner in his dungeon, if suffering wrong- 
fully, may still flatter himself with hope — with the 
hope that his innocence will yet be made manifest 
and procure his liberation. In time too every sufferer 
becomes familiarized with his melancholy situation, 
which habit tends materially to alleviate. 

As to the incessant complaints of many sufferers, 
adduced above, these may certainly be admitted as 
evidence that they are not comforted : but does it 
thence follow that there is no consolation for them ? 
A hungry man, surrounded by ever so great an abun- 
dance of good cheer, cannot satisfy the cravings 
of appetite unless he falls to. If he obstinately re- 
fuses to eat, because some particular dish which he 
likes is not there ; or if he desires not to be hungry at 
all — who can help him ? It is certainly requisite that 
there should be a mind disposed to be comforted ; a 
mind, which, when its afflictions are not to be re- 
moved, gratefully accepts the means of alleviation- that 
present themselves ; a mind which prescribes not to 
circumstances what means shall be offered to it ; a 
mind which by reflection improves these means, or 
devises them when it does not find them in readiness. 
Many sufferers unfortunately are not possessed of such 



84 IMMORTALITY, 

a mind. From a natural vehemence which they have 
strengthened by their former way of life, from pride, 
and from being accustomed to a better lot, they re- 
quire what is impossible, namely, the cessation of 
their afflictions. They are not satisfied with that 
which alone is possible — alleviation of their sufferings, 
and thus ungratefully spurn from them or overlook 
the means of mitigating them. Others there are who 
will not give themselves the least trouble about the 
matter, but desire that these means should drop into 
their lap, or even be forced upon them. Others again 
try the means, but if the first experiment fails to pro- 
duce the expected alleviation, they relinquish them in 
despair. It is their own fault then if all these lament 
the want of consolation ; and I consider it, for my 
part, as incontestably true, that whenever Nature or 
the combination of circumstances imposes an evil upon 
us, there is always something at hand to alleviate, to 
soften, and to assist us to bear it. Nay, I would 
venture to defy any one to mention an instance of 
such a kind as to prove the contrary, for in so im- 
portant an investigation mere assertion or denial is 
not sufficient. 

If this is really the case, then there arises the 
question, whether there needs any consolation for 
deaths and whether we have reason to complain of 
the total want of consolation on account of it. That 
death itself is not an evil, and still less the greatest 
of evils, is self-evident. He who no longer exists 
needs no comfort, no alleviation of the afflictions of 



OR ANNIHILATION. 85 

non-existence, which are but phantoms of the imagi- 
nation. It must therefore be merely the idea of death 
for which people need consolation. 

Now this idea does not occur so often to men as 
might be supposed. A certain happy levity causes 
them always to view death as at a great distance, and 
hence they think of it but very indistinctly. We 
might almost affirm, that a person sound in mind and 
body is obliged to call up purposely the idea of death, 
if he wishes it to come ; and that it never obtrudes it- 
self against his will, unless perhaps at the sight of a 
corpse, and not always even then. A grave-digger, or 
an undertaker, for example, witnesses ten funerals per- 
haps, without thinking once of his own death. If this 
were not the case, the whole intercourse of society 
would be different from what it is : for none can be so 
silly as to believe, that all those who are continually 
gay and jovial are rendered so by the hope of a future 
state. Most of them, on the contrary, doubt the ex- 
istence of such a state, or at least have not carried 
their belief in it to any degree of stability. The truth 
is, they never think of death at all. May not then 
the distance at which the idea of death keeps itself 
back, so that to many it does not occur for a year 
together, contribute greatly to its alleviation as an 
evil? 

Nay more. As the idea of death seldom comes un- 
bidden, it is in the power of a man to banish it from 
him again as soon as it approaches. He may ex- 
change for instance the sight of a corpse for that of a 



86 IMMORTALITY, 

jovial circle. Diversion, whether by business or plea- 
sure, is in general a sure antidote to the thought of 
death. The soul, as soon as it seizes a new idea with 
ardour, abandons that by which it was just before oc- 
cupied. Thoughts of business and pleasure are not 
only the most suitable means for exciting this ardour, 
but also the most complete specific against the 
thoughts of death ; so that whenever the former arise 
the latter are obliged to give way. Why then, it 
might justly be asked, do ye encourage the thoughts 
of death ? Why do ye summon them ? — Call them 
not. Scare them away whenever they obtrude them- 
selves and are troublesome to you !— If then the idea 
of death comes but rarely ; if even when it comes un- 
bidden it can be driven away whenever we please ; 
what more need men to tranquillize them in regard to 
death ? And if they are still uneasy on account of it, 
'tis their own fault, just as much as it is their fault 
when they will not accept the means of alleviating 
other afflictions which are placed within their reach. 
You must die some time or other — if this distresses 
you, drive all thoughts of death from your mind. 

And finally, is it not absolute cowardice to be afraid 
of death ? What ! can the idea that you shall once 
cease to exist shake you thus ? Are you then shocked 
by the idea that there was once a time when you had 
not begun to exist ? Is it then so painful to think 
that you shall some time or other lose all you pos- 
sess ? You lose nothing, but all things lose you. 
What need you more when you are yourself no more ? 



OR ANNIHILATION. 87 

Can you not enjoy all you have as long as you do ex- 
ist ? Enjoy yourself then ! Enjoy yourself amidst the 
thoughts of deathj and consider every enjoyment as a 
compensation and solace for death. 

I cannot deny that there is a great deal of truth in 
this representation ; though I do not believe the asser- 
tion, that the thought of death occurs but rarely, to 
hold good in regard to the more noble and cultivated 
portion of our species. To our artisans, to those who 
earn their daily bread by hard labour, and to our boon 
companions, as they are called, whose lives are an in- 
cessant round of dissipation, in short, to all those who 
are wholly absorbed in the occupations and pleasures 
of sense, it applies, I admit. But whoever reflects at 
all, and he in particular who is fond of reflecting on 
mankind, must wind up almost every series of his me- 
ditations with death. We must therefore not think, 
and least of all on ourselves, if we would avoid this 
danger — a plan which would be wholly beneath the 
dignity of Man, and which of course could not con- 
duct him into the right track. Every being cultivates 
itself in its peculiar way ; Man too must cultivate him- 
self. It is his duty more especially to cultivate that 
which particularly constitutes humanity — his reason. 
Now the more this is cultivated, the oftener will death 
stand unbidden before him. The comfort, therefore, 
which is derived from the rarity of involuntary recol- 
lections of death, is wholly inapplicable to those who 
are really and truly men, to the men of men. 

Still less suitable to their case is the comfort de- 



88 IMMORTALITY, 

duced from the facility of scaring away the idea of 
death. To profit by this facility they would be ob- 
liged, whenever that idea approached, to break off 
their meditations and enquiries concerning the world, 
human nature, and human life. You would have them 
flee immediately from their solitudes ; but whither ? 
To Nature perhaps ? — There they would fare no bet- 
ter. The whole series of their reflections, which they 
/lad suspended, would recur to their minds, extend it- 
self much farther, and introduce from a thousand 
sides the idea of the final fate of man. It would be 
attached for them to every convulsion of Nature, whe- 
ther great or small ; to every relic of ancient human 
habitations ; to every hill the summit of which be- 
speaks the ravages of time, to every oak beginning to 
decay, to every ear of corn which ripens before their 
eyes, to every flower which fades at their feet. The 
view of the country from every height would not fail 
to suggest the idea, that thousands of years ago hu- 
man beings enjoyed themselves on the very same spot; 
and to the sun they would say : " Just as genially and 
benignly didst thou once shine on our forefathers, 
whose very dust has long since been dispersed by the 
winds of heaven." No, to Nature they must not be- 
take themselves for the purpose of banishing the idea 
of death. Are they to hasten into human society ; 
but what kind of society ? Into that of reflecting per- 
sons like themselves ? In this case they would be but 
just^where they set out. How can people who think 



OR ANNIHILATION. 89 

at all be together without adverting to the destination 
of Man? They must go then into such societies in 
which not a rational word is uttered, into the society 
of our slanderers, our fools, our gamblers, with whom 
the earth swarms to such a degree as to be an abomi- 
nation to her own satellite. How is this to be ex- 
pected of people who have cultivated their minds, and 
seek food for them wherever they are ? 

Neither is this plan for driving away the idea of 
death always efficacious with those who have recourse 
to it. With the thoroughly sensual it may certainly 
succeed, so long as they can flutter from one ball- 
room and from one gaming-table to another : but when 
opportunities for doing this are wanting, how are they 
then to keep aloof the dreaded idea ? how above all, 
when confined to their chambers by illness, when toss- 
ing in sleepless nights on the solitary couch, when 
racking pains remind them of death, when the decline 
of their faculties announces its approach, when their 
once jovial friends whisper their apprehensions for 
them, when the physician shrugs his shoulders, and 
the scene is drawing to a close ? 

Indeed 1 clearly perceive that it is wretched comfort 
to say to a man : If it distresses you that you must 
once die, never think of death ! He is compelled to 
think of it whether he will or not. Who, moreover, 
would advise him to banish from his mind that which 
so nearly concerns him, which is of such importance 
to him, and deserves his most serious attention ! No, 



90 IMMORTALITY, 

it would be much more rational to try whether, not 
the idea of death, but the affliction which this idea is 
said to produce, might not easily be dispelled. 

I, for my part, have succeeded in dispelling it : the 
idea that I must die gives me no uneasiness. But 
would it be fair to expect thousands in totally different 
situations to be equally successful. Have they had 
the education that I received ? Is their time so en- 
tirely at their own disposal, that they can meditate 
duly on death ? Are they alone in the world, and 
without any dear and tender connection, like me ? 
How powerfully the latter circumstance alone may 
influence the form in which death appears to men, and 
how much a change in it may alter their views of 
death ! It is at any rate unnatural, to require that 
dying should be a matter of indifference to those who 
are bound by the most sacred and tender ties of affec- 
tion. And who knows besides, if the power which I 
possess of disregarding death may not be one of those 
properties with which only an individual here and 
there is gifted ? Have I a right to reproach others 
with the want of a thing which they cannot give to 
themselves? Suffice it that thousands and tens of 
thousands declare it to be impossible for them to en- 
tertain the idea of death otherwise than as the idea of 
the greatest of evils ; I cannot help believing them, 
just as I wish them to believe me when I tell them that 
the contrary is the case with me. Indeed I begin to 
be of opinion, that it is more consistent with the nature 
of Man to be afraid of death than to be indifferent to 



OR ANNIHILATION. 91 

it; and thus my way of thinking concerning death 
must be a deviation from Nature. Am I certain, again, 
that I shall continue in this way of thinking as long as 
I live ? Perhaps, before I am aware of it the natural 
feeling may suddenly re-assert its rights, and with 
irresistible power overthrow my cold-blooded philoso- 
phical notion of death. Might not this happen, in case 
I were to perceive that the kind of death which Nature 
would prepare for me was one of the most painful ? It 
is not so easy to die as one may imagine. Perhaps 
even the experience of so many painful deaths may 
have though a secret yet a considerable share in the 
general fear of death. I dare not flatly reply, that a 
painful death is in all cases an unnatural death, and 
that people ought to live naturally in order to die 
naturally, that is to say, at a good old age and with- 
out pain ; for I have known old men after the most 
virtuous life die as hard as others in the flower of 
youth. 

In short, it certainly seems as if men in general had 
need of some consolation on account of the idea of 
death ; and if there is an alleviation for every evil that 
afflicts them, it would almost seem as if there must 
be something to cheer them for their present mor- 
tality ; and if nothing were capable of cheering 
them on account of it but the hope of a future state, 
then 

But is not this too precipitate a conclusion ? Ad- 
mitting that death were an evil, nay the greatest of all 
evils, does it thence follow that there must be a Qon- 



92 IMMORTALITY, 

solation for it as for all other evils ? With death life 
is at an end, and of course all comfort is at an end 
along with it. How can we draw conclusions from the 
evils which take place in the midst of life, or at least 
always presuppose life, concerning that evil which 
consists in the termination of life ? If it is true that 
for all other evils for which there can be consolation, 
consolation is provided ; all that is possible has been 
done for man, and he ought to be content. For the 
last evil he was not furnished with consolation, for this 
reason, because there could not be any consolation for 
the final evil, which is at the same time the last circum- 
stance that befals him. And if a person would here 
make a distinction between the feeling of the conse- 
quences of death, for which no consolation is needed, 
and the previous ideas of death, he ought to consider 
that this is consolation sufficient for Man, that when- 
ever he thinks of death, he may also think that death 
is the last of evils, that evil which has none to suc- 
ceed it, and with which the whole series of his afflic- 
tions is closed. This consolation he had not for any 
preceding affliction ; if then death were even the 
greatest of evils, he would have for the greatest of evils 
the greatest of consolations. 

I should belie my own feeling did I not admit this 
proposition to be harsh and repulsive. Such a conso- 
lation for death, that death is the last evil, would be 
suited only to beings destined to the exclusive endu- 
rance of evil, and whose existence was an uninter- 
rupted chain of afflictions. We actually find indeed 



OR ANNiniLATTON. 9S 

that men who sigh under the incessant sense of pain 
or sorrow, for which they have no hope of relief but in 
death, have recourse to this consolation. But is not 
their number infinitely small compared with the rest 
of mankind, for whom life has evidently much more 
of good than of evil ? — But such a doctrine is too un- 
true, too unnatural, ever to find general acceptance 
among men, even though it were to be preached by 
all the orators in the world, — indeed the most abo- 
minable doctrine that could be inculcated, and 
which would have no other effect than to encourage 
suicide. 

I reject, therefore, from my heart, the consolation 
that death is the last of evils. It is not necessary for 
my tranquillity that I should wish for a future life ; 
on the other hand, I have no occasion to deprecate it, 
neither do I deprecate the present life. Setting aside 
some very extraordinary and peculiar cases, I cannot 
help thinking meanly of him who does so. Whether 
those who preach this false gospel are in those peculiar 
predicaments or not, and whether they may not have 
brought themselves into them, I leave their own hearts 
to decide. At any rate, they ought not to endeavour 
to mislead me into the grossest ingratitude. 

Should any one say : " Comfort yourselves, in re- 
gard to death, with the consideration, that in the long 
run we become tired of life, that the aged body con- 
tracts too many infirmities, and that it is well for us 
that we are enabled to escape from too great evils" — 
nine hundred and ninety-nine out of a thousand 



94 IMMORTALITY, 

would answer :— '* We are not tired of the game, as 
you call it ; if we are not destined to have much more, 
we can be content with little ; we cannot comprehend 
what there is consolatory in being released from great 
evils by the greatest of all." What reply can be made 
to this 1 know not : and upon the whole, these and 
similar representations cannot convey any consola- 
tion to the mind in regard to death, unless death 
be considered as a transition to another and a better 
world. 

To me, therefore, it seems by no means to follow, 
that if there is consolation for all other evils, there is, 
however, no consolation for death, because death is 
the termination of life, and consequently when life is 
at an end, there is an end to all consolation. If there 
were a future state after death, then there would also 
be a consolation for death, not however the consola- 
tion of this, but the consolation of another life. I 
mean not to say that I believe it ; but yet this second 
life appears very possible. 

If then there is no other imaginable consolation for 
death than the consolation of a second life — if the 
second life is possible — if there is consolation for every 
other evil prior to death — what follows ? If there fol- 
lows nothing in favour of my existence after death, 
there follows at least nothing hostile to it. I must 
therefore be particularly averse to an existence after 
death, did I not acknowledge that this very first argu- 
ment for a future state has made some impression 



OR ANNIHILATION^. 95 

upon me. I cannot express myself more cautiously 
respecting its value. All will depend on the result of 
the others. To me 'tis matter of indifference ; but I 
must not turn a deaf ear to the voice of Truth, be her 
decision what it may. 



96 IMMORTALITY, 



TENTH MEDITATION. 

SECOND ARGUMENT IN BEHALF OF A 
FUTURE STATE. 

" As Man endued with reason cannot have any 
other consolation for the idea of his death than that 
which is furnished by an existence after death ; so 
the wish, the desire, the longing after a future state, are 
so essentially peculiar to him, that he would be the 
only terrestrial being in contradiction with itself, if he 
were to wish, to desire, and to long in vain." 

This argument in proof of a future existence, 
more explicitly stated, will be something like what 
follows : — 

Ask any man whether he would rather die or live. 
If he is in his senses, and not grievously afflicted by 
bodily suffering, he will decide for the latter. Put 
this question not only to the young but also to the 
aged ; under the above-mentioned limitations the 
same answer is returned. The value of life is deter- 
mined by a tacit concurrence of human nature in all 
human souls. The very brutes have an obscure sense 



OR ANNIHILATION. 97 

of it, and every living creature strives to preserve life 
as long as it can. In the human being, however, this 
feeling is infinitely stronger and more distinct. Every 
man has his little spot to which he is particularly at- 
tached, and in which, were it even the humblest cot, 
he wishes to live a little longer. Each has his goods 
which he would fain possess yet awhile, and his 
sources of pleasure, whence he would yet wish to 
draw. Each would like to see the issue of this or 
that public event, or how it will fare with this or that 
individual. The father wishes to see his children 
settled in the world, the grandfather the grandchildren, 
and the great-grandfather the great-grandchildren. 
The man who has founded a useful institution is de- 
sirous of witnessing its prosperous continuance, and 
he who merely plants a tree would fain repose in its 
shade. The pleasure of continuing to be uninterrup- 
tedly active has something irresistibly fascinating; 
the mere sense of existence is so sweet, that Man does 
not relinquish it unless compelled by extreme violence. 
Even those who hope after death to soar to a better 
world are glad to remain as long as they can in this 
nether sphere. 

This desire of life, essential to Man, is naturally 
transformed, when he has convinced himself of the 
inevitable necessity of his death, into a wish that he 
may continue to exist after death. It is the same 
desire of life, only extended beyond the grave. Ask 
any virtuous man whether he would rather be annihi- 
lated when he dies or enter upon a new life — he will 

H 



98 



IMMORTALITY 



choose the latter. He must be a bad man who wishes 
for annihilation. Nay, there is no idea that can im- 
part more energy and serenity to the virtuous soul, 
than the idea of its immortality. 

Must it not then strike in a particular manner the 
observer of his species, that this idea is to be found 
among all nations possessing the slightest degree of 
civilization ? Scarcely has a nation emerged from the 
brute state before this idea obtains among it, clothed 
indeed in a thousand different garbs; but that is 
nothing to the purpose. When the idea itself is once 
there, it receives its clothing from the spirit of the 
age, the higher or lower degree of philosophy, the 
mode of life of men, their favourite occupations, and 
their notions of the highest happiness and misery. 

It is, therefore, evident that, as the sensual nature 
of Man teaches him to desire life, so the desire of an 
existence after death awakes in him as soon as reason 
awakes. To the former alone the savage confines him- 
self ; the latter is the desire of the civilized man. The 
one is as strong as the other ; nay frequently the lat- 
ter far surpasses the former in intensity. In like man- 
ner the one is as essentially peculiar to Man as the 
other ; for it is the duty of Man to cultivate his rea- 
son, and if he does so, the immediate consequence is 
a longing after a future state. Is not this longing 
the most innocent that can be ? Is it not an honour 
to his heart ? Does its gratification involve an internal 
contradiction ? And if this is not the case, ought it 
not to be gratified? 



OR ANNIHILATION. 99 

How can a being be at variance with its actual in- 
stincts ? It would then be destined not to be the 
being that it is destined to be. Should any one 
object : — " Here is no contradiction — man wishes to 
live and wishes not to live — that would be a contradic- 
tion : but he wishes to live and he dies ; that is, he can- 
not live any longer — that is no contradiction/' — he 
would only lay himself open to the suspicion of a 
desire to confound ideas. The question here is not of 
a contradiction of an instinct with itself, but of the 
contradiction of a being with its instinct ; and thus 
there certainly would here be contradiction. Now 
nothing of the kind is to be found again throughout 
all Nature. All the other beings with which we are 
acquainted are in perfect harmony with their instincts ; 
that is to say, it is possible for them to gratify their 
instincts, and they actually do gratify them. It can- 
not be otherwise. An actual instinct which a being 
possesses must be considered as a promise that is 
given to it. The promise must be fulfilled, and the 
fulfilment of such a promise is the gratification of the 
instinct. How could we so much as dream, that pre- 
cisely the most perfect of terrestrial beings should be 
the only one in contradiction with his instinct ? In 
this case, the most perfect of beings would be destined 
to be the most imperfect. In reality, however, Man is 
not at variance with his other instincts, so long as 
they keep within the limits of instincts ; in regard to 
his desire of an existence after death, this would be 
the only instance. Go through all his sensual and 
H 2 



100 IMMORTALITY, 

higher instincts : for every one of them he finds grati- 
fication upon earth. Does he long for drink ? — springs 
gush forth for him in every part of its surface. Does 
he long for rest ? — he can set up his couch upon it 
wherever he pleases. Does he long for gratification for 
the eye and ear ? — pleasures for both these senses 
pour upon him from all quarters. Does he long for 
a wife ? — the Earth offers him his choice among her 
daughters. 

In like manner, Man aspires to knowledge, and the 
earth furnishes him with inexhaustible sources of 
knowledge. He aspires to honour, and finds a thou- 
sand situations on earth where he may acquire it by 
merit. He aspires to the relish of the sublime and 
beautiful, and the earth presents to him one scene of 
the sublime and beautiful after another. He longs 
for the society of congenial souls, and these, too, he 
meets with upon earth. How is it possible to believe 
that Man, who is in perfect harmony with all his other 
instincts, should be at variance solely and alone with 
the first and most sacred of his instincts ? For, is not 
his longing after a future state such ? No : as there 
is a gratification for all his other instincts, so this, 
this above all, must be gratified. His longing after a 
future state is the promise given to him ; that future 
state itself is the fulfilment of the promise given : 
there must therefore be for him a life after death. 

This mode of proving a future state is extremely 
pleasing and attractive, I admit ; but when I imagine 



OR ANNIHILATION. 101 

that 1 behold truth, let me not be deceived by mere 
appearances ! 

It has been objected, in the first place, against the 
high value alleged to be universally attached to life, 
that this is not the fact. Not that the objectors mean 
to appeal to our hypochondriacs or even to our suicides 
— no, they are well aware that the former, at such 
times when they are not tormented by their evil spirit, 
judge of the earth and of life just like other people, 
and that suicide always originates, if not from insanity, 
yet from the want of correct principles, in short from 
confused ideas. They appeal to the example of many 
of our dying young men, who are more willing to die 
than the aged, and thence conclude that the love of 
life may in reality originate only in the long habit of 
living. They appeal to the declaration of the great 
majority of persons who, when asked on their death- 
beds if they should like to live their time over again, 
have answered in the negative. They appeal to the 
lowest classes, which form by far the greatest part of 
mankind, and by which life is so little prized that they 
are totally indifferent to death. 

Supposing all this to be really true, still I am of 
opinion that the assertion concerning the universally 
acknowledged value of life may be perfectly consistent 
with it. As to those who willingly die young, there 
are perhaps quite as many who are most unwilling to 
die, because, as they say, they are so young and have 
not lived long. In others of contrary sentiments it is 



102 IMMORTALITY, 

perhaps a pure and genuine philosophy that inspires 
them with tranquil resignation to their fate, or religion, 
or perhaps even the belief in a future state, that thus 
elevates them above death. The influence of this doc- 
trine on the dying is not to be denied. But if a man» 
when he once perceives that he cannot live much 
longer, rises superior by his principles to his early 
death, does it thence follow that he prizes life the 
less ? I am myself a proof of the contrary. As I am 
a firm believer in God, I should, were it my lot to die 
to-day, be perfectly satisfied, that a wiser than I am 
had cut my life shorter than even that of my father. 
I should therefore be quite willing to die. Still I can- 
not deny, that if I might be permitted to live longer, 
I would rather live. Such too, I should suppose, would 
be the case with all those of my brethren who meet 
death cheerfully in early life. 

With respect to the negative reply which most per- 
sons at the approach of death are said to give to the 
question whether they should like to run their career 
over again, they know but too well that it would avail 
them nothing if they were to say Yes. They think then 
that, under these circumstances, they best consult their 
honour if they answer No. Were it possible that they 
could begin their lives again, I should be curious to 
learn what reply many of them would then give. And 
if they did not all answer in the affirmative, according 
to my notions they would not do right ; for, in their 
new career they would either be conscious that they 
had travelled over the same course before, or they 



OE ANNIHILATION. 10,'3 

would not. In the latter case, many things might turn 
out better for them than, according to their opinion, 
they had done the first time ; and, in the former case, 
many things could not fail to turn out better, for they 
would enjoy the benefit of their former experience, they 
would know the causes of their misfortunes, and might 
avoid them the second time. To me it seems proba- 
ble also, that the wish to live their time over again may 
be extinguished in such persons by the belief that 
they shall be conducted by death into a better life. 
For the rest, there are certainly persons of contented 
dispositions, who, if they were asked the same ques- 
tion on their death-beds, would frankly answer in the 
affirmative. Who is there that would not wish to 
continue to lead an active life on earth? To the 
man of contented mind, who understands the art of 
making small pleasures great by means of his heart, 
the earth is still upon the whole an agreeable planet. 

I now come to the lower classes for which life is 
asserted to have but little value. If this were really 
the case, it would be the most disgraceful thing that 
could be said of the upper classes ; for to them alone 
this apathy must be owing. They must appropriate 
to themselves so immoderately disproportioned a 
share of the goods and enjoyments of the earth, that 
little or nothing would be left for their inferiors. It 
were then no wonder if life lost its worth in the eyes 
of the latter. The greater the poverty, wretchedness, 
and ignorance, in which they live, and the more they 
are harassed, the less certainly it is worth their while 



104 IMMORTALITY, 

to live. What a hint to the higher ranks to be 
humane, that they may not degrade thousands so low 
as to make them renounce the first sentiment of all 
living beings ! If there are countries where the hus- 
bandman and the labourer are so wretched that, like 
the Blacks in the sugar-islands, they would rather die 
than live, may the Father of Mercies speedily grant to 
suffering humanity thete a salutary revolution to re- 
verse the order of things ! In my country, God be 
praised, it is not thus. There the lower classes are as 
fond of life as the upper. Nor does it need so very 
much to produce the same effect everywhere. The 
love of life is universal ; let it only not be cruelly 
stifled ! If the people of the lower classes can pro- 
cure, by labour not surpassing their strength, the first 
necessaries of life in sufficient quantity and the means 
of making occasionally a little excursion into the 
domain of pleasure, they are truly happy and at- 
tached to life. They might in fact be rendered so 
everywhere, and the higher orders might still retain 
more, not only than the lower possess, but than they 
themselves need. It is the surest evidence of a hu- 
mane system of government in a country, that the 
common people, as they are called, are fond of life. 
To the philanthropic traveller the appearance of this 
fondness for life among the people is truly gratifying. 
If the common man displays a certain indifference in 
regard to death, this proceeds not so much from a 
dislike of life, as from his religious notions. Giving 
implicit belief to his teachers, he entertains not the 



OR ANNIHILATION. 105 

least doubt of a future life. With him to die, to be 
removed to this second and better life, to be in hea- 
ven, and to be with God Almighty, are synonymous 
expressions. By the by, it is high time he should be 
taught that even in this life he is in the presence of 
his God. 

I heartily concur then in the position, that the 
great worth of life is universally admitted. I recol- 
lect indeed some very striking examples which speak 
strongly in favour of it. I have heard of criminals, 
who had the choice left to them between impri- 
sonment with hard labour for life and the sword. 
They were three in number. Two, without much 
hesitation, chose the former. The third, a man of 
ferocious mind, preferred decapitation. He was al- 
lowed four weeks to consider the matter, and being 
again asked, he too preferred life. He only re- 
quired more time to come to a rational determina- 
nation than the others, in whom gross depravity had 
not stifled the natural feeling, which, in him too, finally 
gained the ascendancy. Nay, I have known a still 
more striking instance in favour of the universality of 
the love of life. Every species of capital punishment 
being deemed inadequate for a most atrocious monster 
of villany, he was sentenced to be chained down 
for life in a recumbent posture. He was a young 
fellow, of a robust constitution, who had a prospect 
before him of half a century. He was like a raving 
madman when he heard this sentence, and begged 
that he might rather be broken on the wheel : it was 



106 IMMORTALITY, 

nevertheless carried into execution ; but the sight 
soon became too horrible for humanity. In a quarter 
of a year, therefore, it was resolved that mercy should 
be extended to him, that is, that he should be hanged : 
but he then solicited as a favour that he might be left 
in his chains, and so he has lain for many years and 
is attached to life.* 

* Tlirougii powerful intercession his situation was at length 
mitigated, and lie was allowed as much liberty as other prison- 
ers. He contrived in the most artful manner to procure total 
liberty, and fled probably to another hemisphere — at least in 
his own country he has not since been seen or heard of. — 
Edixoh. 



OR ANXIHILATION. 107 



ELEVENTH MEDITATION. 

CONTINUATION OF THE PRECEDING. 

As then I have reason to believe that the love of 
existence is universal, I cannot doubt that it extends 
beyond the grave, and that, particularly in the dying, 
it may be transformed into a real longing for a second 
life. A sensible man, if asked whether he should not 
prefer a future state to annihilation, cannot do other- 
wise than answer yes. He would else either contra- 
dict himself, if he first had the instinct of prolonged 
existence and then had it not; or he would thereby 
betray an apprehension lest the future state should 
expose in him the hypocrite, who in this masked life 
felt himself under less restraint. For my part I must 
confess, that a future state, if such there be, would be 
more agreeable to me : but this cannot affect my 
present enquiry. It must now be matter of indiffer- 
ence to me what may be the result ; and should this 
result be annihilation, of what avail would be all my 
wishing and longing for another life ? 

There precisely lies the difficulty for me in this 



108 IMMORTALITY, 

whole argument. Put into other words it would run 
thus : — '• Because Man heartily wishes for and ar- 
dently desires an existence after death, there must be 
such an existence for him." What is there however 
but Man might heartily wish for and ardently desire ! 
Would it thence follow that it must be allotted to 
him, or even that it is possible to be so allotted? 
But, methinks I hear some one reply : — " It must be 
nothing improper, at least nothing foolish, that Man 
ardently wishes for and desires ; if then it is some- 
thing unobjectionable, something truly worthy of him, 
that is the object of his most ardent desire, you will 
surely retract your severe judgnient. Consider only, 
that the wish for a future state is intimately connected 
with the destination of Man, with his destination to 
be wise and good : who then would not wish to keep 
growing still wiser and better to all eternity? You 
admit that in itself it is not impossible that the 
human mind may be capable of existing after death- — 
what then is there, who is there, to oppose the fulfil- 
ment of its most sacred wish ? Who ? God perhaps ? 
Oh ! if you believe in God, the point is settled. 
God is the most bountiful Being. Man is capable 
of existing after death — Man wishes to exist after 
death — by the God of heaven, Man ivill exist after 
death !" 

The idea of the Deity we will leave out of the 
discussion for the present; meanwhile, my friend, 
your reasoning makes an impression upon me. But, 
even admitting the wish for a future existence to be 



OR ANNIHILATION. 109 

the most sacred wish of Man, it may perhaps remain 
unfulfilled precisely because it is the most sacred — I 
mean the greatest, and consequently too great for him. 
You speak of the destination of Man to be wise and 
good, with which this wish is intimately connected ; 
but must not this destination, like the destination of 
every other being, have its limits ? Perhaps the 
highest degree of wisdom and virtue that Man has ever 
yet attained forms these limits, and perhaps the whole 
destination of Man is to strive to reach this height. 
Survey the earth ; every thing upon it is certainly 
contrived for the immortality of the different species, 
but not for the immortality of individual beings. The 
earth is incessantly exhibiting on all sides the appear- 
ance of renovated youth. All the species of beings 
that walk, or crav/l, or fly about upon it, are from 
time to time renewed. They never become extinct, 
and thus the ancient globe exhibits at this day as 
young and fresh and beautiful an aspect, as though it 
were still but in the dawn of its existence. Such too 
is the case with Man. In the immortality of our 
species we may confidently believe, for we see it — but 
what proof have we of our individual immortality? 
Has any one ever returned from the dead ? And 
where is any similar instance of it in all Nature ? 

" The butterfly ! — recollect his first grovelling state 
as a caterpillar and then the gayer life which he leads 
as a winged insect !" 

Adduce not the butterfly as an example; it is 
inapplicable. The caterpillar, in the state of a chrysalis, 



110 IMMORTALITY, 

is not dead, but continues to live in its shell-like 
case. The caterpillar and butterfly differ, not like 
Man in the first and Man in the second life, but like 
Man in childhood and Man in maturity in the first 
life. What then would you infer by your comparison? 
You might as well bring forward all the beetles and 
flies, every one of which is at first a grub or a maggot. 
But recollect that a being is not perfect till it is 
capable of propagating its species. Now a caterpillar 
cannot do this as a caterpillar, nor before it attains 
the butterfly state ; and therefore the butterfly is not 
the same animal for the second time, but the same 
animal for the first time in its mature and perfect 
state. And what does the butterfly after it has pro- 
pagated? It lies down and dies. Just so does 
Man. 

" But might there not be an exception in regard 
to Man, and with the immortality of the species 
might not the immortality of the individuals belonging 
to it be associated ? You admit yourself that the 
human soul can continue to exist in death." 

Yes, can, can ! — but must it therefore continue to 
exist ? 

•* Not exactly must — but it wilV 

This will does not follow of course. — An idea just 
occurs to me on the subject of the argument concern- 
ing the most ardent wish and desire. What wish 
can be more irreprehensible, and even more agreeable 
to wisdom and virtue, than the wish of a dying father 



OR ANNIHILATION. Ill 

to be spared for the sake of his infant family ? How 
fervent is this wish ! Is it on that account ful- 
filled ? 

" No indeed : but then this wish cannot be fulfilled. 
His body is on the verge of dissolution, from which it 
is impossible to save it. But — this father can continue 
to exist in death : he can some time or other meet his 
children again; and thus his wish can hereafter be 
fulfilled." 

Yes, it can ! — And in regard to the universality of 
the belief in a future state among the natives of the 
earth, I am certainly correct when I say, it is not the 
fact, that it is to be found among every nation as soon 
as it has attained the lowest stage of civilization or 
advanced ever so little beyond the state of brute 
beasts. If this ever was the case, the notion could 
not have originated with that nation itself, but must 
have been brought to it by some foreign instructor. 
For my part, I am of opinion, that it requires a con- 
siderable degree of civilization before a nation can hit 
upon this doctrine of itself. I believe that it does 
not spring up till the propensity to excess is contract- 
ed. Perhaps it is itself a species of excess. As soon 
as men cannot procure food enough, clothing enough, 
apartments enough, furniture enough, arts enough, 
they can no longer procure existence enough. There 
have been many other notions which have prevailed 
among almost all nations, and have nevertheless been 
unfounded, for instance, the belief in evil spirits. If 



11'2 IMMORTALITY, 

the unfounded notion is a very agreeable one, it is 
no wonder that it should be adopted by all the world. 
Every body would like to dream a pleasing dream. 

A consideration which has far more importance with 
me is, that as sense begets the desire of a longer life 
on earth, so reason, when considerably awakened, be- 
gets the desire of a future state after death ; and that, 
therefore, as the former desire is an instinct of the sen- 
sual man, so the latter is an instinct of the rational 
man. 

It is true that no being can be at variance with its 
real instincts. I subscribe from thorough conviction 
to all that has been said on this subject. — ^^An instinct 
is a promise given to its nature ; such a promise pre- 
supposes certain fulfilment ; wherever there is a ge- 
nuine instinct of Nature, there also must be gratifica- 
tion for it. This too I am compelled to admit ; for, 
if I were to argue thus : — Nature promises nothing 
but what she gives, and what she does not give she 
has not promised : what she has promised therefore 
can only be inferred from what she has given — this 
would be as absurd is if I were to maintain that the 
gratification of a natural instinct must precede the in- 
stinct itself. In like manner, I subscribe to every thing 
that has been said respecting the actual gratification 
of all the other instincts of Man ; the evidence of our 
senses proves its truth. But now the question arises : 
Whether the desire of a future state belongs to the in- 
stincts of Man, or whether it ought not rather to be 
classed among his passions. 



OR ANKIHILATION. 113 

Every instinct may grow into a passion. Hunger is 
an instinct and must be gratified : but must gluttony 
too ? Sleepiness is an instinct and must be gratified : 
but must sluggishness also ? Sexual desire is an in- 
stinct and must be gratified ; but must lust also ? An 
instinct immoderately felt and expressed becomes a 
passion : and thus among the noblest instincts of Man 
there is not one but frequently degenerates into pas- 
sion. Though Man may expect the gratification of his 
instincts, he has no right to demand the gratification 
of his passions ; and if he does Nature denies it and 
he becomes the scofi" of all the world. The desire of 
living, of living as long as he can live, may certainly 
belong to his instincts : but if he is immoderate and 
insatiable in his desire of life ; if he wishes for an ex- 
istence after death — is not this a passion of the first 
rank that he indulges ? How can he expect it to be 
gratified ? 

No sooner have I made this objection than I feel 
myself that it is too harsh. The desire of Man to ex- 
ist after death can by no means be classed among his 
passions. I will take hunger for example. This de- 
generates into gluttony when a man all at once desires 
three dinners instead of one ; but would you charge 
him with gluttony who should look for his dinner at 
the regular hour on three successive days ? Too much 
at once then is the craving of passion ; but enough at 
a time, so often as there is occasion for it, is what in- 
stinct requires. If Man wished to have two lives at 
once, then indeed he might justly be accused of a pas- 
I 



114 IMMORTALITY, 

sion for life, but not if he only desires one life after 
another. In this case, the desire to live anew when 
the old life has ceased is nothing more than a conti- 
nuation of the desire to enjoy the present life as long 
as possible. A desire to be immortal is merely the 
prolonged desire of living to be old. 

To this, I must confess, I have nothing to reply : 
but another point of superior importance occurs to me. 
If I am compelled to admit that the desire of Man to 
exist after death belongs not to his passions but to his 
instincts, which must be gratified — still I know that 
there is a great difference between natural and facti- 
tious instincts. To the former alone is gratification 
promised. But does not the desire of a future state 
manifestly belong to the latter class ? Men living in 
the primitive state of Nature have it not, as all the 
world knows. Were it a natural instinct, like hunger, 
they too must have it. What a multitude of factitious 
desires, on the other hand, are there not among po- 
lished nations! Things which the man of nature even 
holds in abhorrence are many of them indispensable 
necessaries with our people of quality, as they are de- 
nominated. 

This is certainly true, and it would be well worth 
while to write a secret history of the great world, in 
order to excite universal astonishment at the fact, that 
while one portion of mankind are racking their inven- 
tion to extend their wants to infinity, another portion 
are puzzled almost to death to supply ever so scantily 



OR ANNIHILATION. 115 

their half dozen absolutely indispensable necessities. 
At the same time it should be well remarked, that pre- 
cisely that portion of mankind who increase their in- 
stincts by hundreds know little or nothing of the in- 
stinct of a future state. I deem it therefore an insult 
to humanity to compare this its noble instinct with 
those ignoble ones. But, as the savage knows nothing 
of the instinct of a future state, must it thence follow 
that this instinct belongs to the factitious class ? 

Most certainly it does not awake till reason is con- 
siderably awakened. It would therefore depend on 
this, whether it is or it is not the destination of Man 
that his reason should be considerably awakened. How 
can I entertain the least doubt of this ? Did he give 
himself reason, or was it conferred on him ? Ah ! if a 
being could give reason to itself, how gladly would 
the horse avail himself of this privilege ; and if Man 
could give himself as much of it as he pleased, how 
delighted many a pampered blockhead, stupified by 
parental indulgence, would be to do so ! But if reason 
was given to Man, it was given to him that he might 
make use of it ; it was given to him that he might 
cultivate it to the utmost, in order that he might be 
able to employ it in the best possible manner. Any 
instinct therefore that first awakes in Man, when he 
duly cultivates and properly employs his reason, is as 
much a natural instinct in him as hunger, which he 
feels before he acquires the least degree of reason. 
Nay I believe that such an instinct belongs to the no- 
I 2 



116 IMMORTALITY, 

bier class. And if the less noble shall be gratified, 
may we not rest assured that the more noble shall be 
gratified also? 

Now, of all the nobler desires of Man, the desire 
of a future existence is certainly the noblest, and I 
should think every one must feel that he libelled him- 
self, if he could compare it with those silly desires 
which are also produced by reason, but not by reason 
duly cultivated and still less properly directed ; and 
therefore — therefore — 

Here I must confess a light breaks in upon the val- 
ley of death. 



OR ANNIHILATION. 117 



TWELFTH MEDITATION. 

THIRD ARGUMENT IN BEHALF OF A FUTURE STATE. 

Man is incontestably distinguished from the whole 
animal creation by the most signal advantages. We 
shall say nothing of his erect posture, for every spar- 
row walks upright also, because it has but two legs ; 
nor of his strength and swiftness, for the horse is 
stronger than he, and any hare will beat him in run- 
ning ; nor of his longevity, for the elephant lives to a 
greater age. But what far superior intelligence is dis- 
played by Man to that discoverable in the brute. 
While the brute performs his apparently ingenious ope- 
rations merely from natural instinct, and as it were 
mechanically ; man can weigh every action before- 
hand, form plans, and alter and adapt them to each 
new circumstance that may arise. The oftener he 
performs the same action the better he performs it, 
and thus he is in a continual progress towards perfec- 
tion. Nature has not chalked out for him a line from 
which he cannot deviate — he may make himself what 
he pleases. The brute is capable only of a limited 



118 IMMORTALITY, 

number of specific operations — but his sphere of action 
is unbounded. What a multitude of arts has his un- 
derstanding invented ! How many sciences has he 
cultivated and reduced into systems ? Measuring the 
heavens as well as the earth — analysing and decom- 
posing the elements of matter, as well as constructing 
the most ingenious instruments — a painter as well as a 
poet — a musician as well as a philosopher — ^he demon- 
strates in whatever he does the superiority of his na- 
ture. He alone is acquainted with the objects that 
surround him ; all things else exist only to increase 
the stores of his knowledge. His eye, and his alone, 
penetrates into the arrangement of the universe, per- 
ceives the co-operation of things to certain purposes, 
and discovers the connection between causes and ef- 
fects. He, and he alone, is susceptible not merely of 
sensible but also of abstract ideas, and has a taste for 
beauty and perfection. He alone is fascinated by the 
charms of nature and art — he alone is enraptured with 
the harmony of sweet sounds. He alone has moral 
feeling ; he alone is a free agent ; he alone is accessi- 
ble to the sentiments of friendship and refined love. 
His body itself is the master-piece of the terrestrial 
world ; he possesses all the senses of the brutes in the 
most suitable perfection, and can by cultivation or ar- 
tificial aids increase their powers to a most astonish- 
ing degree. He, and he exclusively, beholds God in 
the works of creation^ hears him in Nature, hears him 
in his heart, and adores the Eternal, 

Such a being is Man ! And has such a being occasion 



OR ANNIHILATION. 119 

to apprehend that he shall share the fate of creatures 
placed so infinitely below him, and that like them he 
shall be annihilated in death ? He who is so highly 
distinguished in all respects must certainly possess a 
pre-eminence in the most important of all points, that 
of prolonged existence. As then this pre-eminence 
is not attached to the earthly life of Man, since not only 
animals but even trees and plants surpass him in lon- 
gevity, there must be a future state for him after 
death to compensate for this otherwise wholly unac- 
countable inferiority. 

But may we not draw from this circumstance a dia- 
metrically opposite conclusion ? Man certainly pos- 
sesses the most signal advantages as well over the 
brutes as over all other beings, and the preceding enu- 
meration of them might be very much enlarged ; but, 
for this very reason, that he is so highly distin- 
guished, let him not desire still more, but be content 
with what he has. Is it not enough to be exalted 
above all the beings in a whole world ? Or has Man 
a charter to be insatiable ? Look at the other crea- 
tures ; as they all come so they go again, and while 
they remain here they have infinitely less than he. 
Among them too there is considerable difference, many 
of them possessing much more than others ; but as 
these, notwithstanding that distinction, return to no- 
thing, so must he too who has the most of all. Is he 
not favoured beyond measure in the exclusive posses- 
sion, for almost a whole century, of so many and so 
high prerogatives, and of the sovereignty over all the 



120 IMMORTALITY, 

beings in a whole world ?— Strange conclusion !— that 
a creature who is distinguished in every other respect 
must likewise be distinguished in regard to death ! 
Had this been intended, he would have been altogether 
exempted from its influence. 

" But it is impossible that Man should not die. It 
is possible enough, on the other hand, that he should 
continue to exist after death. And as he cannot re- 
main here for ever, consequently " 

Man desires too much : — let us take another survey 
of his prerogatives. From the same source whence 
flow those important advantages, from the faculty of 
reason, he derives also the dominion over the whole 
terrestrial world. This superiority cannot be denied, 
nor can its value to him be too highly appreci- 
ated. Let us begin with the animal kingdom ! Can 
there be a more despotic power than what he exercises 
over this ? He finds means to rid himself of every ani- 
mal that is injurious, and to profit by every one that 
can be serviceable to him : and he makes prize at 
pleasure of both classes, whether they await his attack 
or strive to escape him by flight. If they surpass him 
in strength or swiftness, his reason compensates for 
the deficiency. This it was that taught him to disco- 
ver the most sensible parts of the stronger horse and 
still more mighty elephant, so that while yet a boy 
he can direct them as he pleases. This it was that 
enabled him to invent the net to secure the fish, the 
trap to catch the mouse, the pipe to entice the bird 
into his snare, and the gun to prostrate the distant 



OR ANNIHILATION. 121 

stag. Many of the more useful animals he has con- 
trived to tame, and he employs them, some in labour 
only, others first for labour and afterwards for food. 
On the one he places burdens ; a second is destined 
to satisfy the cravings of his hunger, and a third to 
supply him with raiment. He even hunts out the 
fox, the wolf, and the bear, which flee before him to 
the recesses of the forests ; he recognizes them merely 
by their traces, and strips them of their furs for the 
purpose of wearing them himself. 

Now turn to the vegetable kingdom ! There Man 
exercises the same arbitrary power as in the animal 
kingdom. There too he converts whatever possesses 
the requisite properties into food, drink, and clothing. 
He cuts the cabbage, presses the grapes, gathers the 
fruit, reaps the corn, hackles the flax. With his 
hatchet he fells the gigantic oak as though it were a 
sunflower, and it must fall which way soever he 
pleases. He overthrows whole forests, and with the 
wood he warms himself in winter, cooks his victuals, 
builds his house, and exports the surplus to other 
countries. As he draws upon the stores of the vege- 
table world for food, so also he resorts to it for medi- 
cines. With its herbs he heals his wounds, purifies 
his blood, and strengthens his stomach. He employs 
roots and barks for the restoration of his health. He 
plants flowers in rows and groups, feasts his eye 
upon their beautiful tints, inhales their refreshing fra- 
grance, plucks them for nosegays, and binds them up 
into garlands. 



122 IMMORTALITY, 

Nay even the mineral kingdom itself is at his dis- 
posal. He digs the metals with wonderful skill out of 
the bowels of the earth, works them up into the most 
ingenious instruments and the most beautiful trinkets, 
and coins out of them his money, which is the soul of 
commerce. He collects precious stones and with them 
fabricates the most splendid jewels. He burns the 
limestone to make cement for his walls, and splits the 
slate to cover his roofs. He cleaves the solid granite 
and carries high-roads through massive rocks. In 
short, he rules with despotic sway over every thing 
that belongs to the earth on which he is placed. 

These are interesting considerations ; let us pursue 
them farther ! All-powerful Man reigns over the 
earth itself. He digs and ploughs its surface, and it 
is obliged to produce for him whatever crops he 
pleases. If he finds the upper soil too scanty, he digs 
deeper, and if he discovers better strata below, he 
throws them up and reverses their situations. He 
sinks wells, lowers hills, fills up dales, converts 
swamps into meadows, sandy wastes into gardens and 
pleasure-grounds, here roots up a wood and there 
plants another. He can subject the very climates to 
his will. His reason renders him more independent 
of their variety than any species of the brutes. He 
knows how to clothe himself agreeably to the tempe- 
rature of each, and to find sustenance in any of 
them, so that he soon becomes accustomed to every 
region of the globe. Thus not merely a portion of 



OR ANNIHILATION. 123 

the earth, but the whole earth is his own. If, how- 
ever, he chooses to remain at home, and yet wishes to 
enjoy the productions of every country, he procures 
them by means of commerce. He can even improve 
the ruder clime of his native land by felling the im- 
mense forests, draining the morasses, and bringing 
them into cultivation. The sea itself must submit to 
his dominion. His reason teaches him to construct 
vehicles for water as well as for land, and he flies 
with undaunted courage over boundless oceans. Let 
tempests drive him ever so far out of his course, let 
him be tossed about ever so long upon the billows 
without beholding land, his compass never fails to 
inform him where he is. Even the primary elements 
of matter have not been able to elude his grasp, and 
he is extending his authority over them with every 
century. Soaring aloft into the air, as well as diving 
into the depths of the sea, he produces fire and extin- 
guishes it again. He bounds the waters with dykes ; 
he builds bridges, and by long, deep canals he unites 
river with river. He governs the very lightning by 
conductors ; he dissipates rain-clouds by thundering 
explosions. Earthquakes and tempests are yet left for 
him to overcome, and there can be no doubt that in 
process of time his reason will give him more autho- 
rity over these also than he at present possesses. 

And is this sovereign of the earth to be himself 
reduced to earth ! Is it to be believed that so com- 
plete a dominion over all the beings which surround 



124 IMMORTALITY, 

him will terminate in the complete annihilation of his 
own existence? At first so much pomp and conse- 
quence, and at last — nothing ! 

Just look around you and say, if every thing in 
nature be not of merely transient duration. Consider 
the American aloe — what long preparation Nature 
makes for its flowering, and when it has blossomed, 
what is it ? Consider the oak, for ages an ornament 
to the forest — is it not at length subject to decay ? 
Consider the elephant and the whale — what a mass of 
flesh is here accumulated, and for what purpose, as 
not a single grain of it is ultimately left ? Consider 
the volcano-— what awful magnificence it displays for 
many centuries, but even the volcano is finally ex- 
hausted and tumbles in. Thus Man too is but a tran- 
sitory being, and at length returns with all his glories 
to the dust from which he sprung. He drew the grand 
prize in the lottery of existence ; and so long as he 
lives he is the lord of all things around him. Is it 
not then enough for him to be, as before observed, for 
nearly one hundred years the sovereign of all contem- 
porary beings ? 

But Man has rendered such important services to 
the earth, that on this account alone he deserves at 
his departure from it some pre-eminence above the 
brutes. Without him what would it be ? In none 
but its warmest regions would it resemble a garden ; 
the greater part of it would indeed exhibit upon its 
elevations grand, wild, and romantic scenery ; but the 
lowlands would be nothing but deserts and swamps. 



OR ANNIHILATION. 125 

From the primitive forests, overthrown by storms or 
decayed by age, new ones would from time to time 
spring up and intercept the rays of the sun from the 
earth, so that it would never dry. Dews, fogs, and 
rain, incessantly dripping from the trees, would collect 
in the hollows and at length form one vast morass, the 
pestiferous exhalations of which would infect the air, 
so that it would be habitable for very few species of 
animals, vermin excepted. May not, in this way, 
most of the land-animals be indebted to Man for the 
perpetuation of their existence ? All the fertile fields, 
meadows, and pastures, are the result of his industry, 
and all the towns and villages which embellish the earth 
are literally the work of his hand. By careful culture 
he has improved the different species of grain, flowers, 
and fruit. He has transplanted trees, shrubs, herbs, 
and roots of all kinds, from southern into northern 
regions, which would otherwise at this day be miser- 
ably poor, and have nothing but the most wretched 
indigenous vegetables to produce. What, on the 
other hand, is done by brutes for the earth ? Very 
few species only assist in its cultivation, but not with- 
out being trained to it by Man, and then only under 
his incessant superintendence and direction ; all the 
others merely graze and glut themselves upon it, 
giving back in return first their dung and finally their 
carcases. Man, on the other hand, confers such impor- 
tant benefits on the earth that he deserves to continue 
to exist in death, and as he is capable of such prolonged 
existence, this is the only reward he can receive. 



126 Immortality, 

Without it he, the most industrious of all the inhabi- 
tants of the globe, would have comparatively less than 
the brutes, which suffer him to sow for them, and which 
moreover rob him of his seed in the field, in the barn, 
and in the granary, and take as great pains to spoil, 
waste, and destroy, wherever they go, as he does to 
cultivate, improve, and embellish. Or, has he been 
endowed with reason solely that it may create more 
labour for him ? 

This, I would reply, is an extraordinary kind of argu- 
ment. Did you ever hear of important prerogatives 
unaccompanied with important duties ? Is it enough 
to desire to enjoy the one without fulfilling the other ? 
And if a person performs the duties which arise out of 
his prerogatives, can he desire a special reward on that 
account ? or, is he not rewarded by the prerogatives 
themselves ? If Man has been invested with the chief 
authority over the earth, he is of course charged with 
the especial care of and superintendence over it ; if he 
will not undertake the latter, he must renounce the 
former. And for whose benefit is it that he tills, plants, 
and beautifies the earth ? Surely not for that of the 
earth ? To the inanimate clod it must be wholly in- 
different whether it looks well or ill, whether it is 
covered with verdure and flowers, or lies bare and waste. 
Or, is it for the sake of the animal creation ? Man 
denies that it possesses a sense of beauty — conse- 
<juently he embellishes the earth for himself alone. 
For himself he builds towns and villages upon it ; for 



OR ANNIHILATION. 127 

himself he cultivates fields and gardens ; for himself 
he has improved the various sorts of corn, flowers, and 
fruit ; for himself he has transplanted the exotics of 
the south into northern regions, and by degrees natu- 
ralized them there ; for himself he drains swamps 
and morasses, and if several kinds of land-animals 
thereby acquire the right of citizens of the world, he 
checks, on the other hand, by the same means, the in- 
crease of the aquatic species. In bringing ancient 
wastes into cultivation, nothing is farther from his 
thoughts than to afford a wider range for the multipli- 
cation of the former class ; and if this result neverthe- 
less follows, it follows in like manner for his benefit 
alone. Several' of these species of animals, the exist- 
ence of which he ascribes to himself, assist him faithfully 
in his labours. If it is necessary for him first to train 
them, and if they cannot labour without him, this does 
not affect the question : they do it — that is enough. 
Are not all the operations of agriculture more depend- 
ent upon animal labour than human labour ? Is not 
almost all the inland traffic carried on by means of 
animals ? — And how scantily are they fed for their 
services ! How cruelly are they often treated ! Would it 
not be better for many of them that they had not come 
into existence through his means than that he should 
make their lives an everlasting torment ? If other spe- 
cies of animals which perform no labour for him some- 
times visit his crops and take tithe from them ; he knows 
full well that most of these are fattening themselves 



128 IMMORTALITY, 

merely to supply his table with a variety of delicacies. 
From the services of Man to the earth, it seems to me, 
therefore, that no inference can be drawn in favour 
of a future state ; for, in this particular Man evidently 
acts with an interested motive, and whoever so acts has 
no claim to reward. 



i 



I 



OR ANNIHILATION. 129 



THIRTEENTH MEDITATION. 

FURTHER DISCUSSION OF THE SAME ARGUMENT. 

We will admit then that Man does not pay too 
clearly for his reason by the labour which it imposes 
upon him ; and that whatever he does for the earth is 
in fact done for himself. But there is another point 
of view in which his reason is his bane, and such a 
bane, that, if he had no existence after death to hope 
for, notwithstanding the possession of reason and the 
superiority which it confers, he would be in reality 
more unfortunate than the brutes to whom it is denied. 
This, however, cannot be the case. Man, who is evi- 
dently destined for the highest happiness by means of 
his reason, cannot possibly be rendered supremely miser- 
able by it : for his nature is no more in contradiction 
with his powers than it is in contradiction with his in- 
stincts. 

Here my whole attention is roused. Proceed — I 
will listen and meditate. 

" The brutes though they must all die have no 
notion of death. They die without knowing what be- 



ISO IMMORTALITY, 

fals them. In dying they all seem in their way to 
struggle against death ; but in fact they only struggle 
against the pains which it occasions. In like man- 
ner they strive to evade the dangers of death solely 
because those dangers are attended with pain. Thus 
too they carefully heal their wounds, because the 
sense of pain impels them to do so. You may con- 
vince yourself from daily observation that brute ani- 
mals really know not what death is. Several lambs, 
for example, are led to the slaughter-block^ and each 
of them not only goes up to it quietly, but one sees 
another bleed, quiver, and die, without manifesting any 
uneasiness. Each remains quiet till its turn comes to 
be lifted upon the block and stuck, when it kicks as 
its predecessor did, and that is all. A fowl is killed, and 
the other fowls come up and drink its blood. Lay it 
yet fluttering upon the ground, and they will surround 
and peck at it. Throw away its intestines, and all 
the poultry in the yard will greedily snap at them, 
drag them about, fight obstinately for the prize, and 
at length devour them. A living animal passes by a 
dead one without taking the least notice of it, unless 
it be to prey upon the carcase. 

" As then the brutes when they die are not even 
conscious that they are dying, still less do they know 
beforehand that they must once die. Let it not be 
asked why nine out of ten birds which are perched 
upon a branch fly away, or why two out of three hares 
which are playing together, run off", when one of their 
number is killed by a gun-shot ? In this case it is 



OR ANNIHILATION. 131 

merely the report of the piece that frightens them 
away. Fire in a different direction and the effect will 
be the same : but take aim at them with a bow in- 
stead of a gun, and it will be less complete. If it 
were possible to kill one of their number without noise 
and to place one's self in such a situation as not to be 
seen by them, they might all, unless scared by some 
accidental circumstance, be successively dispatched. 
Hence those savages who use no other weapons than 
bows and arrows for hunting derive considerable ad- 
vantage from this practice, because the animals, not 
being rendered shy by the report of fire-arms, are the 
more easily shot. In like manner, it is well known, 
that all the animals in islands wholly uninhabited by 
Man were found, upon their first discovery by naviga- 
tors, to be much tamer than those of inhabited coun- 
tries ; but the firing of guns soon made them as shy 
as they are with us. Even here the experienced hare 
is less afraid of the shepherd than of the sportsman, 
because she sees that the former has no gun : and at 
the sight of the gun she runs away, not from the ap- 
prehension of death, but from apprehension of the re- 
port. Let it not farther be asked why, when two hogs 
are killed in succession, the second makes such a hi- 
deous noise when the butcher enters the sty ? This 
is no proof that the animal anticipates his death. He 
saw how the butcher dragged away his companion, 
and heard how dismally the latter screamed with pain 
— hence he is afraid of the man, but not as being the 
person by whose hand he is to die. These hogs, on the 
K 2 



13£ IMMORTALITY, 

contrary, like all animals which are fattened, furnish 
the strongest proof that brutes have no presentiment 
of death. If the hog knew that he should be slaugh- 
tered, he would perceive, from the unusual abundance 
of food with which he is supplied, that his death is 
near at hand. He would not of course gorge himself, 
in compliance with the wishes of his owner, but strive 
by rigid fasting, as the only method of prolonging 
life, to defer the fatal day to as distant a period as 
possible. In like manner the silliest of geese would 
not be so foolish as to gobble up the corn till she is 
fat enough for the spit ; but would require cramming 
like her unfortunate sisters. In short, if any of the 
animals which we slaughter knew beforehand that 
they were to die, instead of feeding freely till they 
grew fat, they would one and all keep themselves as 
lean as they possibly could. 

" As, then, the brutes have no notion that they 
must once die, it naturally follows, that during their 
whole lives they feel no apprehension and still less 
horror of death. How can any being dread an im- 
pending catastrophe of which it is utterly ignorant ? 
How happy then are the brutes in their way, in being 
thus exempted from the fear of death ! Hence all their 
pleasures are pure and perfect as long as they live. 
Till their latest moments they are as cheerful as ever, 
sing, neigh, hop, run and frisk about ; and when the 
mortal blow is dealt by the gun, the axe, or the knife, 
death occasions them not the slightest suffering be- 



OR ANNIHILATION. 133 

yond the pain which necessarily attends it at the in- 
stant when it takes place. 

'^ Contrast with this picture the state of Man. How 
few are the years of his life before he learns what 
death is, and before he is thoroughly convinced that 
he too must die ! As soon as his reason awakes, he 
cannot help saying to himself at the sight of a corpse 
— * This was a man ; he died — I too am man, and 
must die as well as he. — To-day 'tis his turn ; to-mor- 
row perhaps mine.' — From this moment the idea of 
death is indelibly impressed upon his mind — it asso- 
ciates with all other important ideas, it haunts him 
incessantly, it disturbs, embitters, and poisons all his 
enjoyments, and particularly those which he estimates 
the highest. Is he delighted with a beautiful prospect 
from a commanding eminence — he reads on its mar- 
gin the words : Heaven and earth shall pass away for 
thee. Is he charmed with the return of spring — a 
deep sigh heaves his bosom at the thought that it 
may be the last. Is he comfortable in his newly 
erected habitation — what avails it ? — an inward voice 
tells him that he must once exchange it for his last 
narrow house. Does he walk in his garden — on every 
wall he sees inscribed — The time will come when thou 
shalt enjoy thyself here no longer. Does he feel 
happy in the possession of knowledge — the presenti- 
ment of death renders him more miserable than the 
most ignorant of his species. Does he clasp a friend 
in his arms — he involuntarily thinks of their last em- 



134 IMMORTALITY, 

brace. Will he merely regale himself with good cheer 
— ^Thou future food of worms, he exclaims, to what 
end wouldst thou hold banquet here ? — throws down 
knife and fork and pushes aside the glass. 

" If death, which Man knows to be his inevitable 
lot, were the termination of his existence, then indeed 
it were better for him that he had never had any re- 
lish for the beauties of nature, that he had never 
thought of building houses and planting gardens, that 
he had never taken pains to acquire learning, that he 
had kept aloof from the ties of friendship, and that he 
renounced the sooner the better all concern for his 
farther preservation ; that the fate which he cannot 
escape might overtake him as speedily as possible and 
put an end to his misery. — Such is the melancholy 
state of Man ! — a state which he owes to reason and 
to reason alone. But for this he would have no fore- 
knowledge of death, and thus, with all the vaunted 
superiority which it confers, is he rendered by means 
of it far more miserable than the brute. Is it possible 
that he can be so ? — But he is and must be so, unless 
he has the most confident hope that he shall continue 
to exist after death. Consequently his hope of a fu- 
ture existence, which has intrinsic possibility, remains 
unshaken ; for it is more conformable to reason to as- 
sume something possible as true, than to adopt the 
grossest of all contradictions.'" 

Who can deny that this view of the subject is 
highly gratifying ? But, in the first place, it may be 
replied, that the brutes pay dearly enough for their 



OR ANNIHILATION. 135 

ignorance of death, since the consequence of it is — 
that they are slaughtered. If they had a foreknow- 
ledge of their fate, they would assuredly flee so far 
from Man that he could never reach them. Against 
the disadvantage, therefore, which he certainly sus- 
tains in the exclusive foreknowledge of his death, he 
must place the advantage of being able to kill them 
whenever he pleases ; — an advantage by which his 
condition is inexpressibly meliorated. 

Farther — since Man must once die, it admits of a 
question, whether it be not much more to his interest 
to know it beforehand than not to know it. May not 
this foreknowledge be the greatest benefit that could 
have been conferred upon him, and the highest privi- 
lege with which he could have been invested ? May 
it not warn him to shun such mortal dangers as are 
to be avoided, when he perceives that they threaten 
him with death ? In diseases which are not attended 
with acute pain, will he not seek the means of cure, 
because, notwithstanding this freedom from pain, they 
may still prove fatal ? Will he not devise all possible 
expedients for the preservation of his life ? Conse- 
quently, would not the foreknowledge of death be the 
only medium of giving at least the utmost duration to 
his life, and of making him for as long a period as 
possible master of the earth ? 

Lastly, it still remains a question, whether Man, if 
he had the option to resign his reason and thus be 
relieved from the fear of death, or to retain his reason 
at the price of being still subject to that fear, would 



136 IMMORTALITY, 

not prefer the latter. Whoever has once tasted the 
blessings flowing from reason would not voluntarily 
relinquish them at any rate. Thus then it would 
appear, that great favour has been shown to him, in- 
asmuch as the very alternative which he would him- 
self have chosen has been actually chosen for 
him. 

The principal point however, still is — whether such 
a fear and such an awe of death as are here described 
necessarily result from the knowledge that it must 
happen. I continue to maintain the contrary, and I 
am acquainted with others who coincide in my opi- 
nion. By far the greater part of mankind, however, 
contend strongly for the affirmative, appealing to the 
natural horror of death which we should never be 
able to eradicate, and charging us, their antagonists, 
with merely endeavouring to hide it from ourselves : 
while we, on the other hand, assert, that this horror 
is not natural, but that it has been produced by 
education and by the example of others from infancy 
upward. Both parties have philosophers of the first 
rank on their side ; and, as there is no supreme 
tribunal to which either philosophical opinions or 
human feelings are amenable, each ought to treat the 
other with respect, which, in such contests, is unfor- 
tunately but too often wanting. 

It is true, that the mere foreknowledge of such 
inevitable circumstances as are directly contrary to 
our wishes suffices to make a very disagreeable im- 
pression upon us ; for which reason it is a great bles- 



OR ANNIHILATION. 137 

sing that futurity is concealed by a thick veil from 
our view. Should any one reply, that such impres- 
sions cannot arise from any other cause than the just 
presupposition, that in these disagreeable situations we 
shall continue to exist with a consciousness of our- 
selves and a feeling of them (v^hich is wholly inappli- 
cable to death) : I am not sure that this explanation 
v^ould be satisfactory. One of my oldest acquain- 
tances, the evening before his death, gave a supper to 
his friends. Our party — a very jovial one — broke up 
about midnight. Our host was to all appearance in 
perfect health, and in higher spirits than we had seen 
him for a long time. By daybreak I received in- 
formation that an hour after we left him he died of 
apoplexy. Had this man known what was to happen, 
would he have invited us to supper, or if he even had 
done so, would he have possessed sufficient self- 
command to be so cheerful among us as he was ? 

I will take myself as an example. — Suppose I 
knew for certain that lightning would some time or 
other strike my house and kill me in bed. Why then, 
I should find means to prevent it by pulling down my 
house and building a new one on another spot. 
Well : — but, supposing I only knew generally that I 
was destined to die by lightning ; should I really feel 
quite indifferent about the matter, and remain free 
from all apprehension whenever a thunder-storm ap- 
proached? — Or, supposing I knew that I should 
some time or other be shot, without knowing by 
whom ; should I not^ whenever I went out with other 



138 IMMORTALITY, 

persons a-shooting, frequently look round at my com- 
panions, with more anxiety, and keep at a greater 
distance from them than I am now accustomed to do ? 
In rambling through woods and solitary places should 
I not be alarmed by every person whom I might chance 
to meet with a gun in his hand ? Were I to deny all 
this, my own heart would give me the lie. Does 
this differ in any respect, but in degree and in the 
application to particular cases^ from what is asserted 
concerning the fear and horror of death generally, as 
arising from a foreknowledge that it must happen? 
I can also easily conceive that, the more irritable the 
nerves and the more lively the imagination of any 
individual, the more keenly will he suffer from this 
apprehension. 

Though I cannot deny that without the foreknow- 
ledge of death innumerable human souls would feel 
no fear of it ; though I am likewise obliged to admit 
that the foreknowledge of death is solely a conse- 
quence of reason; still the nature of Man seems to be 
set, by means of reason, in contradiction with itself. 
As this contradiction would be removed arid perfect 
harmony diffused throughout human nature in general 
if there were a future state after death ; and as such 
a state has, in my mind, internal possibility : I must 
confess that I am particularly struck with the position 
just now advanced, that it is more rational to assume 
something possible as true than to adopt a contra- 
diction. 

Methinks I hear some one say — " You are again 
playing with the word contradiction." My business, 



4 



OR ANNIHILATION. 139 

my friend, is of too serious a nature to admit of any 
play upon words. Instead of merely asserting that 
Nature has taken care in a thousand ways to render the 
fear of death no annoyance to Man, you would do 
better, to mention only one of these ways : and when 
you likewise merely allege that Man, who is suscepti- 
ble of feeling more pain from the idea of death than 
the brute, has stronger grounds of consolation under 
it than the irrational animal, you ought to inform us 
what those grounds are. 

Hearken to one more objection : — "Why should Man 
be the only one of all terrestrial beings that continues 
to exist after death ? 

But — why should he be the only one of all ter- 
restrial beings that has a foreknowledge of his death ? 
Must not this foreknowledge lead him to surmise that 
he shall continue to exist after death ? Must it not 
announce, promise, assure him of a future state? 
Does not a painful exception on the one hand, entitle 
him to a pleasing exception on the other; that is 
to say, if the latter can take place? If then the 
same reason which caused Man to discover that he 
shall die, were also to reveal to him that he shall 
continue to exist after death, would not this produce 
the most admirable harmony in his nature ? And if 
harmony must exist in his nature, as it is found to 
exist in the nature of all other beings — and if it 
cannot exist in his nature unless there be a future 
state for him after death — am I not constrained to 
beUeve in a future state ? 



140 IMMORTALITY, 



FOURTEENTH MEDITATION. 

FOURTH ARGUMENT IN BEHALF OF A FUTURE 

STATE. 

I HAVE reconsidered, on my favourite eminence, 
the results of my previous meditations, and must 
confess that collectively they had a much stronger 
effect upon me than individually. I am therefore at 
this moment in a very happy disposition of mind, and 
will pursue the investigation of my subject. 

When we figure to ourselves such men as Newton, 
Locke, Leibnitz, Voltaire, first in the cradle, and then 
in the maturity of their genius, we are astonished to 
find what such a mere moving mass of flesh as a 
new-born infant is capable of becoming. Man pos- 
sesses really wonderful faculties. True as this is, so 
true is it also that he evidently possesses far too many 
faculties, and an absolutely unjustifiable superabun- 
dance of them, if his existence terminates with his 
death. The exposition of this argument deserves the 
particular attention of the philosopher. 

The wonderful faculties of Man consist in the ex- 



OR ANNIHILATION. ' 141 

traordinary capabilities with which he is endowed. 
First Nature, then society, afterwards circumstances, 
and lastly Man himself by his own industry, concur 
in their developement : and it is a heavenly sight to 
see a highly cultivated person. Of course it is not 
bodily powers to which I am alluding. But how few 
are there who attain this high degree of cultivation ! It 
would be a miserable evasion if we were to attribute 
this merely to the essential diiFerence of human souls 
or organizations. Defective education, faulty instruc- 
tion, the want of opportunity even for looking on, are 
by far more frequent causes of this. Thus innumera- 
ble individuals of the lowest classes, even in the more 
polished Europe, remain exceedingly far behind-hand; 
though it is daily found from experience, that pupils 
out of those classes who have the good fortune to be 
placed early enough under better tuition are sus- 
ceptible of the same cultivation. On extending our 
observations beyond Europe, we find the great mass 
of mankind more and more unpolished, rude, and 
brutal : and when we come to the savage nations, 
properly so called, how closely their state borders on 
that of the apes i In them nevertheless lie the same 
germs of human perfection ; for our forefathers were 
savages, like them. Nay more — half the human 
race die before they have attained the years appointed 
by Nature for the cultivation of the mind. Innate 
corporeal debility, parental fondness carried to excess, 
or the total want of it, poverty, and half a dozen 
equally dangerous diseases to which every individual 



142 IMMORTALITY, 

is exposed in the first ten years of his life, annually 
sweep innumerable children from the face of the earth. 
Many are placed upon the earth merely to find a 
grave in it ; nay many even come dead into the world. 
In all these there are nevertheless the same germs of 
powers ; but for what purpose did they receive them ? 
Man was not endowed with his capabilities merely 
that by cultivation he might form them into powers, 
but that he might afterwards employ the powers so 
formed. It is the same throughout all Nature ; and 
if it is a sublime sight to see a highly cultivated man, 
it is a spectacle far more sublime to see a highly 
cultivated man exceedingly active. Whoever believes 
in a God must discover in such a man the image of 
God. And yet it fares no better with the employment 
of the human powers than with the cultivation of the 
human faculties. Very few persons occupy those 
stations in society for which they are fitted. External 
circumstances, birth, property, nay frequently mere 
accident, allot their place to far the greater number. 
All these are thereby rendered wholly unserviceable, 
or are much less useful than they might otherwise 
have been. Thousands would have made great pro- 
ficiency in the sciences ; but poverty compels them to 
follow a trade. Thousands possess a genius for the 
arts ; but their parents insist on their being scholars, 
and they turn out smatterers. Thousands might have 
become clever mechanics, but, from having inherited 
the tools, they are wretched artists. Even among 
those who choose their own profession, this choice 



OR ANNIHILATION. 143 

rarely accords with their peculiar qualifications and 
powers. The persuasions of other young persons, the 
specious attractions of this or that vocation, the love 
of independence, some youthful prejudice or other, or 
a whim v/hich the slightest reflection would have 
dispelled as rapidly as it was conceived, decide the 
majority and decide them wrong. This they find out 
in the sequel ; but it is then too late to think of 
changing their profession. They labour on therefore 
in their injudiciously chosen vocation, with inability 
or with disgust, and in either case to little purpose. 
Were every member of society placed in that situation 
for which he is fitted by his qualifications and the 
measure of his powers, how infinitely less would be the 
mass of human misery ! Each State would resemble 
a healthy body, in which every member promotes to 
the utmost the welfare of the whole, at the same time 
with its own, and the world would know nothing of 
those bunglers with whom every profession at present 
swarms. 

This consideration may be carried still farther. Even 
those who have not only had the luck to choose their 
own profession, but who have made a judicious choice, 
frequently succeed but partially in the employment of 
their powers. How difficult is it not often for the 
cleverest and most active men to find a proper sphere 
for their activity ! Not appreciated, on the one hand, 
and, on the other, though appreciated yet at the same 
time envied or even feared, they find the most un- 
worthy persons continually raised over their heads, 



144 IMMORTALITY, 

are discouraged, and draw back within themselves, or 
are at least content with a sphere in which they can- 
not employ the tenth part of their energies. Others, 
though they may have the good fortune to enter early 
enough upon the sphere for which they are qualified, 
are thwarted in all their operations. It is as though 
every thing about them conspired to prevent their 
success, and circumstances combined to throw in- 
superable obstacles in the way of all their efforts, and 
to render the execution of every plan, how well di- 
gested soever, utterly impracticable. Others for a 
time labour prosperously in their vocation ; but are 
soon seized with a lingering and incurable disease, 
which compels them to contract their activity from a 
large to a small scale, to suspend works which they 
had commenced, and to abandon altogether others 
which they had projected. Nay many are snatched 
away by death in the very flower of their age, and 
they involuntarily disappoint the world which expect- 
ed yet much from them. One of the most striking 
observations made by the enquirer into the history of 
the arts, sciences, and useful institutions and inven- 
tions is, that the greatest geniuses have generally been 
short-lived ; that men who have projected the most 
beneficent plans have generally been summoned away 
by Fate in the midst of their labours ; and that al- 
most all those who have attempted improvements have 
been obliged by a premature death to leave their en- 
terprises unfinished. 

When all these things are considered, the question 



OR ANNIHILATION. 145 

forces itself upon us : How is this ? In the first place, 
such a prodigious quantity of the capabilities of hu- 
man beings are lost, that we cannot be sure if but the 
thousandth part of them attain considerable develope- 
ment ; and in the next, an inconceivable quantity of 
actual powers are not duly applied, and are either 
wholly thrown away, or perform so little that they 

might almost as well not exist at all How 

does this accord with the rest of Nature, in which 
nothing, absolutely nothing, is lost? How does it 
accord with the wisdom discoverable in all the other 
arrangements of the world with which we are ac- 
quainted ? Let this wisdom originate from what quar- 
ter it will, so much is certain, that it appears in all 
things around us, and every work not made by Man 
bears its impress. By means of this wisdom percepti- 
ble throughout all nature, we find in every occurrence 
and appearance in nature a certain end for which it 
happens and appears, and this end is always so much 
the more important and sublime, the more important 
that occurrence and appearance. Here then, in the 
most important of occurrences, in the most sublime of 
phenomena, in the case of the human capabilities 
which are either not at all or but partially developed, 
or of the human powers themselves which in like 
manner are either not at all or but partially applied, 
there would either be no end whatever, or at least 
only such a one as would be so wholly disproportionate 
to the means employed, that their profusion would 
be the most wanton waste which any rational being 

L 



146 IMMORTALITY, 

could possibly conceive. Such a thing, however, can- 
not be ; but the destination of Man itself must involve 
an extraordinary deviation from the general destina- 
tion of beings, by vs^hich this otherwise incomprehen- 
sible profusion, when compared with the due propor- 
tion between means and ends universally apparent 
throughout the rest of Nature, is explained, justified, 
and presented as the greatest wisdom. 

Another consideration here occurs to raise this opi- 
nion above the highest step of probability. There are 
not only extremely few who very highly cultivate their 
capabilities, and very actively employ their powers; 
but there never yet existed a single individual who at- 
tained perfection in the culture of the one and the 
application of the other. Noble as is the sight which 
a highly cultivated and remarkably useful man affords, 
still we do not see in him by far so much as we should 
perceive, if his death did not deprive us of the sight 
of his highest glory. What dying philosopher would 
rejoice to stand on the limit of his existence, because 
he found himself all at once at the limit of his know- 
ledge ? What upright man will deem death a good, 
because, had he lived ever so much longer, he could 
not have advanced any farther in virtue ? What pub- 
lic-spirited individual on his death-bed will console 
himself for the approaching close of his days, by 
imagining that he could not have still added to the 
mass of his usefulness ? — No ; even the wisest may 
yet become far more wise. He has still much more 



OR ANNIHILATION. 147 

to learn than he has already learned : nay, the more 
he learns the more he is himself aware that he has 
much more to learn. The merely sensible world, Na- 
ture, is for him inexhaustible ; and were his life pro- 
longed to a hundred, nay, to a thousand years, he 
would not have finished with the earth alone. And 
then the world of his reason, the world of his abstract 
ideas — does not this open to his inquiring mind a 
store for a whole eternity ? To-day the wise man is 
wiser than he was yesterday ; if he is hving to-mor- 
row, to-morrow he may be still wiser, and so on ad in- 
finitum. In like manner the best of men may become 
much better. He has still faults to correct, passions 
to control, desires to reconcile, and to bring more 
and more under the supremacy of the desire of doing 
good. He can still continue to strengthen his moral 
sense, to rectify and refine his notions of right 
and wrong, to purify the motives of his good actions, 
to carry his self-denial to a higher pitch, to render 
himself more willing to make sacrifices, and by a 
longer habit of good to confirm and improve himself 
in the practice of it. To-day the good man is better 
than he was yesterday ; if he is living to-morrow, to- 
morrow he may be still better, and so on ad infinitum. 
In like manner the most useful man may become still 
more useful. Ah ! how much good yet remains to be 
done on earth ! How much needless human suffering 
is there yet to relieve ! But it cannot be relieved un- 
less by the joint efforts of generous philanthropists. 
L 2 



148 IMMORTALITY, 

The public- spirited friend of mankind is never without 
plans for their benefit, and let death overtake him when 
it will, it always finds him in the midst of some of 
them. And had he even executed all that he had 
projected, still he can form new plans, and who is 
fitter to carry them into effect than he — he who, from 
his knowledge of men and things, is enabled to judge 
correctly of the practicability or impracticability of 
a scheme, and to foresee and vanquish obstacles, and 
whose mind has long been steeled by the habit of en- 
terprize against every danger ? To-day the public- 
spirited man is more useful than he was yesterday ; if 
he is living to-morrow, to-morrow he can be still more 
useful, and so on ad infinitum. 

What do we see here? — What but capabilities for 
everlasting existence in Man ? How does this harmo- 
nize with the brief existence which is actually allotted 
to him upon earth ? On the one hand he appears as 
a being formed for immortality, and on the other he 
succumbs to the general mortality earlier than many 
species of brutes, which, by the time they have arrived 
at middle age, have developed their powers as far as 
they ever can be developed. This is something most 
contradictory ; and so that magnificent, that sublime 
spectacle which Man at first seems to present, turns 
when more closely considered into the meanest, the 
most wretched, and the most pitiful of sights. May not 
the capabilities for powers which Man possesses be 
compared with a foundation that is laid for a buflding. 



OR ANNIHILATION. 149 

and the developement of these capabilities into real 
powers, together with the application of those powers, 
with the superstructure raised upon that foundation ? 
Must not the dimensions of the foundation so laid be 
duly proportioned to the dimensions of the building to 
be erected upon it ? Would any one ever think of 
laying the same foundation for a hog-sty as for a 
palace or a tower ? This would indeed be a senseless 
waste of vahiable materials. Now, the architecture of 
Nature is, in fact, neither more imperfect nor less 
adapted to its purpose than ours. Where hills were 
to be raised there were laid only the foundations of 
hills ; but vast mountains were provided with immense 
bases. In like manner plants which grow to no great 
height are furnished with but short roots ; whereas 
the lofty oak, which is destined to pierce the clouds, 
has received a substratum of roots of such depth as to 
enable it to defy for ages the fury of the most violent 
tempests. We discover the same principle in the ani- 
mal kingdom. All the animals possess the proportion 
of powers best suited to their destination, their way of 
life, and the duration of their existence. Is then Man 
the only being constructed in opposition to the ge- 
neral principles of Nature ? is he the only deviation 
from those principles, and that without any assignable 
reason ? If so he must resemble a hog-sty for which 
the builder has laid a foundation suitable for a tower. 
What can authorize us to fling such downright blas- 
phemy in the face of that wisdom which is so mani- 



150 IMMORTALITY, 

fest in all the other arrangements of the globe, nay, of 
the whole universe, as far as our feeble sight can pe- 
netrate ? 

No, that cannot be. Man derived his existence and 
his powers from the same source whence all the other 
terrestrial beings received theirs, and he was gifted 
with them agreeably to the same laws and principles. 
His capabilities, therefore, must be as duly cultivated, 
and his powers themselves as duly applied, as the ca- 
pabilities and powers of all other terrestrial beings. 
If, in the present life, this is not done at all by many, 
only in part by the great majority, and not completely 
by any individual, there must be a future state in reserve 
in which it shall duly take place. Now, indeed, I per- 
ceive the reason why Man is endued with such an ex- 
traordinary measure of capabilities and powers. Now 
that being, which apparently forms so glaring a contrast 
with the perfect constitution of other beings, Man, 
stands confessed the crown of them all. Whoever is 
capable of becoming continually wiser, and better, and 
more beneficent, must become so ; and he who is capa- 
ble of becoming so ad injlnitum, must become so ad 
mjinitum. The capabilities for eternity which Man 
possesses guarantee eternity to him. He surveys his 
body, and concludes from the limits of its growth and 
its powers that his body is destined to annihilation. 
Let him then feast on the contemplation of himself, 
the contemplation of the spiritual essence that ani- 
mates this body, and conclude, from the unbounded 
increase of which its powers are susceptible, that the 



OR ANNIHILATION. 151 

mind is not destined to annihilation. The latter in- 
ference cannot be less correct than the former. For 
him death can be no other than a transition to a se- 
cond life, and it will certainly be not less beneficial to 
him than it was unavoidable. At any rate, from the 
great capabilities of his nature and what he performs 
by means of them, he may, even in his present state, 
not only calculate with certainty upon a second life, 
but also promise himself from this second life far 
more than from the first. 



152 IMMORTALITY, 



FIFTEENTH MEDITATION. 

RECONSIDERATION OF THE PRECEDING ARGUMENT. 

Was it the intrinsic weight of this argument which 
gave it such importance for me, or was it not rather 
the disposition of mind in which I discussed it? 

I have been reading over what I wrote on that sub- 
ject, and readily admit that the demonstration from 
the prodigious powers and capabiHties of Man is par- 
ticularly calculated to be adorned with the flowers of 
rhetoric. But it seems to me to be founded on more 
than one false position. 

All that has been said concerning the; non-develope- 
ment of the great mass of human capabilities, and the 
non-application of the great mass of human powers, 
is perfectly true, and there is no exaggeration in that 
part of the statement : but I am not perfectly satisfied 
on this point, that if the capabilities which have not 
arrived at their developement here are not developed 
in a future life, and the powers which have not been 
brought into action here are not employed in a future 
life, there is no end, or at least a most disproportionate 



OR ANNIHILATION. 153 

end for their whole existence. Is not this rather too 
bold a conclusion ? Must the ends every where lie 
exposed to our view ? If something has not the end 
for which we conceive it to be solely and alone des- 
tined, and we can therefore not discover its end, does 
it thence follow that it really has no end ? In my 
opinion Man is yet very far behind-hand in the dis- 
covery of the ends in the arrangements of Nature. 

But how, if upon closer examination an end for the 
human capabilities and powers that remain undeve- 
loped and unapplied should be detected ? " Human 
capabilities cannot exist but to be developed — human 
powers cannot exist but to be applied — where the 
former are not developed and the latter not applied, 
they are thrown away." — Strange conclusion ! May 
not the non-developement and non-application be de- 
signed to produce in this particular also variety among 
mankind ? And if there actually are numberless dif- 
ferent degrees of non-developement and n on- applica- 
tion ; if both really differ in every individual in whom 
we perceive them : is it not evident that by means of 
them the utmost possible variety was designed to be 
produced ? 

Variety is stamped not only upon the worlds which 
float, by the name of stars, in boundless space, but 
also upon the beings in each of these worlds. Variety 
is stamped not only upon the different species of be- 
ings, but also upon the individual beings of each spe- 
cies. It must therefore have been intended that va- 
riety should be stamped upon mankind too. So it 



154 IMMORTALITY, 

actually is upon all sides to an inconceivable degree. 
On the side to which our attention is now directed, it 
is obvious that the groundwork for the utmost variety 
was furnished by means of the infinite diversity of the 
capabilities themselves. If, however, this, as 1 readily 
admit, is by no means sufficient to afford a complete 
explanation of the phenomenon that there are so very 
few highly perfect individuals ; still we are not justi- 
fied in asserting that he who has recourse to it in 
order to explain that phenomenon is guilty of a mise- 
rable evasion. If we admit that some are peculiarly 
qualified and adapted for mechanical trades, others 
for the arts, and others again for the sciences, we ne- 
cessarily admit the variety of their capabilities. It is 
well known also, that absolutely nothing, or at least 
very little can be made of some individuals, let them 
receive what education they will. There is variety 
then already in the capabilities themselves ; but this 
variety could ascend still higher and appear also in 
the developement of the capabilities. This is actually 
the case ; and hence there are absolutely unpolished 
as well as highly civilized nations ; hence among even 
the latter there are found mere mother-wit and natural 
understanding, as well as profound sagacity and cul- 
tivated reason ; hence men in the full possession of 
their mental powers stop short, youths close their 
career in the midst of their efforts after moral perfec- 
tion, children die, or are even brought dead into the 
world, nay, cease to exist while yet unborn. All this 
was requisite to increase the variety presented by the 



OR ANNIHILATION. 155 

human species. But this variety could ascend still 
higher ; it could manifest itself also in the application 
of the developed powers. This, too, actually took place, 
and hence some individuals have improper situations 
allotted to them in society, while others fill those for 
which they are qualified ; hence many of the latter 
are unsuccessful in whatever they undertake, while 
others succeed in all their enterprises : hence there are 
those whom infirmity obliges to relinquish their la- 
bours, as there are others whom health allows to ex- 
ert themselves to the very last ; hence there are in- 
dividuals who die in the flower of their age to the 
great loss of the world, as there are old men who are 
serviceable to it for half a century. All this too was 
requisite in order to carry variety to the utmost pos- 
sible extent. Consider only the fate of completed 
works after the death of their authors. Here the most 
useful institution suddenly drops with its founder ; 
nobody will bestow time and trouble for its continu- 
ance. There another flourishes, and three patrons 
start up for one that it loses : after a century or 
two it is destroyed by a war. A third subsists for 
thousands of years, and all the wars in the world can- 
not overthrow it. 

I perceive clearly then, that the non-developement 
of so many human capabilities and the non-applica- 
tion of so many human powers really have an end, 
namely, to produce the greatest possible variety. 
Nay, I perceive still more ; I perceive too that this 
end is .90 sublime that it is fully proportionate to the 



156 IMMORTALITY, 

means which are expended on it, and that the expen- 
diture of these means does not in the least deserve 
to be termed waste. Is not all beauty dependent on 
variety ? What else renders the appearance of Nature 
so beautiful ? what else, too, makes mankind look beau- 
tiful ? If all men had one and the same shape, sta- 
ture, and physiognomy, would that have been a beau- 
tiful sight ? No more would it if all men possessed 
the same gifts, or if all those who possess certain 
gifts in an eminent degree were to cultivate and apply 
them to the same extent. People talk, indeed, of a 
law of economy in Nature ; but the law of variety 
takes the precedence of it, and if the two clash, the 
former is sacrificed to the latter, and must be sacri- 
ficed to it, because the works of Nature are designed 
to possess the highest beauty^ and this cannot subsist 
without the greatest variety. 

In my opinion, then, I have detected one false po- 
sition in the preceding meditation. It seems to me, 
namely, to be false, to assume that, if there were no 
future life, the human capabilities which were there 
but remained undeveloped, and the human powers 
which were also there, but were not applied, had no 
end. There is still, as we have seen, an end for them 
and that a most sublime one. 

What then would become of human society if all 
human capabilities were duly cultivated ? In theory 
this notion may be truly pleasing ; but in practice it 
would be found quite preposterous. Is it not abso- 
lutely necessary that there should be inferior classes ? 



OR ANNIHILATION. 157 

Must not the lowest class be precisely the most nume- 
rous ? Hundreds of thousands who, for want of cul- 
tivation, now live content with their state, would, if 
duly cultivated, either not enter it at all or soon quit 
it again — in short, they would not like to be and to 
remain in it. If, in like manner, all cultivated pow- 
ers were duly employed, what would become of the 
world ? Can we doubt that there are thousands who 
possess the powers of a Csesar or an Alexander ? How 
would it be if all these were to act the parts of Coesars 
and Alexanders ? In like manner, hundreds of thou- 
sands of subjects possess equal abilities with their 
sovereign. It is therefore as inexpedient as it is perhaps 
impracticable, that all human capabilities should be 
duly cultivated, and all human powers duly applied. 
I say also impracticable. If, for instance, the gift of 
commanding, which is possessed by almost all man- 
kind, were to be applied by all, who would there be 
to obey ? And if all who were born alive were to live 
to grow up, there must be no debilitated parents, no 
ignorant nurses, no infantile diseases ; and for every 
unborn infant to come safely into the world, all mo- 
thers should be strong, healthy, and intelligent. It 
is all a chance whether an individual comes alive into 
the^world, continues to live, cultivates his capabilities, 
and applies his powers ; but all this is the lot of so 
many that the world has enough of them. It was not 
to be foreseen to whom this lot would fall, and there- 
fore it was requisite that there should be the most 
prodigious abundance of capabilities and powers. 



158 IMMORTALITY, 

If the end of variety, in regard to so many human 
capabilities which remain uncultivated, and to so many 
human powers which remain unapplied, be invalid : 
I cannot see how Nature is to be justified in regard to 
all her other arrangements. To the assertion, that 
wherever we discover powers in Nature, we there see 
them not only operating to certain ends, but also pro- 
moting and attaining these ends, I cannot by any 
means subscribe. Daily experience teaches me, that 
throughout all Nature an immense multitude of capa- 
bilities are either not at all or but partially developed, 
and that in like manner an immense multitude of pow- 
ers are either not at all or but partially applied. The 
law of variety, on the other hand, in my opinion, 
completely justifies Nature in this particular. She 
was obliged to sacrifice this law of economy, which 
perhaps after all may exist only in the imaginations 
of some of our philosophers, in order to produce every 
where the greatest possible beauty. 

This conducts me to the second, in my opinion, 
false position in the last meditation, namely, that 
*' throughout all Nature by which Man is surrounded, 
absolutely nothing is lost." If this does not mean, 
that every thing which otherwise neither has nor 
tends to the least end, yet promotes the grand uni- 
versal end of Nature, the utmost possible variety, I 
cannot, as I have observed, coincide in it. What ! 
can any one seriously pretend to palm upon me as 
a truth the position that " in Nature nothing is lost," 



OR ANNIHILATION. 159 

ill the sense that all capabilities are fully developed, 
and all powers duly applied. 

What countless multitudes of insects perish in their 
very origin. Are the thousandth part of the eggs 
laid by our poultry ever hatched ? Do we not destroy 
with every female animal that we kill the germs of a 
long posterity of her species? How many animals 
are devoured while small by us and by beasts of prey ? 
How many fruit-buds drop from the trees ? How 
frequently does it happen that not one in ten of the 
blossoms on a cherry-tree sets for fruit ? and after the 
fruit has set, does not great part of it fall off unripe ? 
Are not the crops both of fruit and corn often totally 
ruined by blights ? In the vegetable kingdom, too, 
what immense numbers of seeds of all kinds never 
find their way to the earth ! What innumerable 
plants perish in their first germination, or when they 
have scarcely sprung up ! I have often remarked this 
when viewing a wood of firs raised from seed. How 
many of them are standing at the end of twenty or 
thirty years ? A small number of these trees by 
degrees out-grow the rest. The latter die ofi", and 
yet with more space they would have thriven as well 
as the former. The same observation applies to the 
very stones, not one in ten thousand of which attains 
its complete developement, while the rest, being re- 
moved from their natural situation by the plough and 
the spade, grow no larger than they are. What 
would become of the earth, and what of its inhabit- 



160 IMMORTALITY, 

ants, if every stone were to attain the developement 
of which it is susceptible ? 

Just as the matter stands in regard to the develope- 
ment of the capabilities in Nature, so it does also 
in regard to the application of powers. How many 
most salubrious springs may there be, which are of 
no benefit to a single individual, because they are not 
known ! What vast treasures of gold and silver may 
be locked up in the bosoms of mountains ! How 
many salutary herbs flourish and fade without being 
applied to any use ! How many fruit-trees are so 
injured by frosts as to bear a scanty crop of very 
inferior fruit ! How many forests in uninhabited 
regions are overthrown by the hand of Time and 
gradually moulder into dust ! What quantities of 
vegetables, pulse, fruit, flesh, and grain of all sorts, 
are spoiled even under the hands of men ! How 
much of the superfluity of the wealthy is wasted in 
the strictest sense of the word ! How many animals 
fit for food perish by disease and rot in their deserts ! 
How many oxen, horses, camels, and elephants, run 
wild upon the earth, all of which might be rendered 
serviceable for carriage or for draught ! And lastly, 
out of a thousand apes and bears scarcely one learns 
to dance ; out of a thousand parrots, magpies, and 
starlings, scarcely one learns to talk ; out of a 
thousand bulfinches, scarcely one learns to pipe ; 
out of a thousand dogs, scarcely one learns to fetch 
and carry. 

While I was stringing together and committing to 



OR ANNIHILATION. 161 

paper this series of questions and exclamations, I 
had often an obscure feeling as if my own better 
knowledge would have contradicted me. Now, upon 
more mature reflection the matter indeed appears in 
a different light. All that 1 have mentioned above, 
though it may not subserve to this or that par- 
ticular end, may yet be employed for other ends, 
and is actually so employed. This takes place in 
part through our own agency. Do we not eat the 
eggs which we will not suffer our poultry to hatch, 
and the animals which we slaughter young ? Do we 
not consume in bread, puddings, pastry, the wheat 
that is not sown? Do we not bake our windfalls, 
or press them for cyder? When a tree has ceased 
to produce good fruit, do we not burn it for fuel ? 
Do we not use the small stones for paving our streets, 
and the very gravel in our gardens ? And because 
we cannot use a thing, is it for that reason wasted ? 
Things which are spoiled for us become on that 
very account fit for the consumption of other creatures. 
In this predicament are unripe fruit, putrid meat, 
the flesh of animals which die a natural death. It 
is inconceivable how many species of living beings, 
and especially insects and worms, either perfect in 
themselves or in their passage to a different state, 
subsist upon them. Not a crumb of bread that 
drops from our table ; not a grain of corn that is 
shaken from the ear; not a seed of any other kind 
which we never think of gathering, is absolutely lost 
— every one of them finds a , consumer. The eggs 



1-62 IMMORTALITY, 

ef insects themselves feed vast multitudes of birds, 
which, in severe winters, when the ground is long 
covered with snow, would perish if Nature had not 
provided them with these supplies. The very blossoms 
which fall off and wither have added to the stores of 
the industrious bee ; and the sheep and the deer are 
fond of herbs which are not in request with Man. Nay 
more — all other things which are of no immediate use 
either to man or beast, are sooner or later mediately 
useful to them, inasmuch as they are useful to the 
earth. The moss that adheres to the naked rock, be- 
comes by its decay the creator of the first mould upon 
it : the dead trees of all kinds, the withered plants, 
the fallen blossoms, nay even the fruit-buds nipped 
by frost, are in like manner again converted into earth, 
and by their return to the soil render it richer in ho- 
mogeneous particles, and thereby more fertile for simi- 
lar trees and plants ; and if the hand of Man ever 
lights upon mouldered or burned forests, and brings 
the soil there, as at Madeira, into cultivation, it pro- 
duces immense crops of corn and fruit, and generous 
wine. The undiscovered salubrious springs render the 
same service to the earth as any other springs : the 
unwrought veins of gold and silver assist like other 
mineral strata to support the superincumbent mass ; 
the wild beasts which do not employ their powers for 
the benefit of Man, use them for their own advantage ; 
and as to the dancing of bears and the tricks of dogs> 
that objection scarcely deserves answering, since the 
torment inflicted in teaching these things is truly 
abominable, and Nature could never have intended 



OR ANNIHILATION. 165 

that any of her creatures should be tormented by 
Man. 

What results from this totally different representa- 
tion of the matter ? Why, this — that in Nature we 
find a universal tendency to some end ; or in other 
words, that out of Man, nothing, absolutely nothing 
is wasted, in the proper signification of the word. 
And, if it were otherwise, could we compare the pow- 
ers and capabilities of Man with such material ob- 
jects ? Can we argue, that as a thousand things are 
stifled in their birth, the same may be the case with 
the human mind ? — but if no part even of the material 
in Nature is ever lost, can it be possible that the spiri- 
tual should be ? This would nevertheless clearly be 
the case if Man ceased to exist in death. His body, 
whether full-grown or yet unborn, is moreover useful 
in death, since it assists to enrich the soil. But none 
of his capabilities when he dies early, nor his mental 
powers when he dies old, can add to the earth a 
single atom. They are absolutely and truly lost if 
there is no existence after death. And as the material 
things in Nature which remain most incomplete, be- 
sides contributing to produce variety, are uniformly 
subservient to some other purpose, were it only to re- 
cruit and fertilize the soil : so it seems also as if that 
which remains incomplete in man, and which cannot 
add a single atom to the mass of the earth, must 
have some other end besides contributing to variety. 

I retract, therefore, the charge not only of the 
second but also of the first false position in the pre- 
M 2 



164 IMMORTALITY, 

reding meditation. In both there is something that 
I cannot refute. 

How, if it were then perfectly true, that not a 
single individual has yet cultivated his capabilities 
and applied his powers to that extent of which they 
are susceptible ? — And so it really is. The assertion 
that the wisest can become still wiser, the best still 
better, the most philanthropic still more useful, and 
that it is impossible to calculate how far all this can 
be carried, is too irrefragable : 1 am forced to admit 
it. I perceive capabilities for an everlasting progres- 
sion of the human mind. Such capabilities I discover 
no where else. All bodies have their maximum of 
dimension. When they have attained it they become 
stationary. This is the case with every stone, every 
tree, every animal, nay with the human body itself. 
By its internal constitution a limit is set to each which 
it cannot pass. This evidently demonstrates that 
they are all doomed to decay and ultimately to anni- 
hilation; for when they can no longer advance and 
rise, they retrograde and sink — a process that cannot 
but terminate in complete dissolution. The mind, on 
the contrary, has no limits assigned to its knowledge, 
its goodness, and its activity. In all these it may 
increase to eternity, if but its existence be eternal. 
Its capabilities for . eternal improvement seem there- 
fore to be capabilities for eternal duration. And 
if besides its instinct of eternal duration there were 
in it also capabilities for eternal duration— what, O 
what, would follow ? 



OR AKNIHILATION. 165 

In good truth, if there is no future life, Man with 
his powers and capabilities must exactly resemble a 
hog-sty built on the foundation for a tower. Man 
himself is not to blame. He would gladly cultivate 
his capabilities and employ his powers as many centu- 
ries as he has been years in cultivating and employing 
them : but he is not permitted. What is he to think ? 
If his body still possessed the power of digesting, of 
preparing chyle, and keeping the blood in circulation, 
his body would certainly subsist longer : now he him- 
self still possesses power to think, to will and to act, 
and shall he not continue to exist, not eternally 
continue to exist, since he possesses the power to 
think, to will and to act eternally ? Let him have 
received this power from what quarter he may, must 
we not conclude that, as in the gift of merely ^finite 
powers to his body, it was decreed that his body 
should exist but for a time ; so the gift of infinite 
powers to the human mind involves this promise to 
the human mind : Thou shalt exist for ever? 

In short, I must almost begin to believe that Man 
is destined for another life ; otherwise he would 
appear to be in contradiction not only with himself, 
but with all Nature around him. He stands alone as 
a deviation from and exception to the general con- 
stitution of beings: is it not more rational to be- 
lieve that he is so on account of his duration, 
than on account of the disproportion of his powers ? 
In the former case he would be a monument of 
supreme wisdom ; but what would he be in the latter ? 



166 IMMORTALITY, 



SIXTEENTH MEDITATION. 

FIFTH ARGUMENT IN BEHALF OF A FUTURE STATE. 

After having thrice read over the foregoing with 
attention, I adhere to the conclusion which at last I 
drew from it. 

One question indeed yet remains to be answered, 
and that is, what would become of human society, if 
all the human capabilities were duly cultivated, and 
all the human powers duly applied ; whence it is in- 
ferred that both would be as inexpedient as they are 
perhaps impracticable. It may be that this did not 
take place, because it would have been inexpedient in 
the present state of human society : nay it may be 
that what is now impracticable must be for ever im- 
practicable ; and what is now inexpedient for human 
society must be for ever inexpedient. But ought we 
not, when we become intimately acquainted with the 
sublimity of the human faculties and powers, rather 
to draw from them a contrary conclusion ? — ought we 
not to infer that some time or other it must be practi- 
cable, and that human society must some time or other 
assume such a form that it would even be expedient 



OR ANNIHILATION. 16/ 

for it ? Here is no question whatever concerning the 
abuse of powers : so that there is no occasion to cite 
the Csesars and the Alexanders. Mankind would at 
all events have been more happy, had there never 
been a Ccesar or an Alexander. — But to proceed to 
the next argument in favour of a future state. 

With the noble faculties possessed by Man is com- 
bined an insatiable desire to improve them more and 
more by cultivation, and this desire of perfection is 
equally strong with the desire of immortality. The 
wise man is not only capable of becoming wiser, and 
the good man better every day, but both earnestly en- 
deavour to become so. It is a most gratifying sight 
to see how they strive to make incessant advances in 
useful knowledge and in virtue. When the desire 
and the faculty harmonize so well, how is it possible 
that they need fear being cut off by death in the 
midst of their career, and annihilated together with 
all their wisdom and all their virtue ? Are they not 
on the contrary authorized to believe with confidence, 
that, because a future state after death has intrinsic 
possibility, as they have the capability and the will to 
advance for ever in the acquisition of knowledge and in 
active virtue, so they shall continue for ever to make 
progressive advances in them ? In fact, the more 
deeply we reflect on the destination of Man, the more 
perfect appears the harmony of his system, if he con- 
tinues to exist in death ; and the more contradictory 
his whole nature, and the more insoluble a problem 
is he to himself, if death is attended with annihilation. 



168 IMMORTALITY, 

This sounds well, to be sure : — but in this sort of 
argument is it not tacitly assumed that the instinct of 
the progressive cultivation of the noble faculties of 
Man is general ? Where is it so ? — Any one who 
had not yet been in the world and should enter it 
after this delineation, could not but believe that he 
was entering a society composed entirely of persons 
insatiably desirous of knowledge and indefatigable in 
doing good : but how soon would he be compelled to 
descend from these lofty notions! For innumerable 
individuals the higher branches of human knov/ledge 
have no charms whatever ; innumerable others are 
slaves to their lusts, or confine their ideas of virtue to 
that degree of common honesty which places them 
out of the reach of the law. Many, even of those 
who devote themselves to the sciences, cultivate them 
merely as the means of subsistence, and stop short as 
soon as they have through them obtained a compe- 
tence. In like manner, many of those who are called 
good men are good no longer than while they can 
derive advantage from being so. That lofty delinea- 
tion of man then is evidently applicable to but very 
few; and the desire of becoming continually wiser 
and better manifests itself in a very inconsiderable por- 
tion of the human race. Instead therefore of classing 
this among the natural instincts, it may most justly 
be numbered among the artificial, to which, as already 
observed, no gratification has been promised. 

This melancholy picture of mankind is unfortu- 
nately not wholly destitute of truth ; but in my 



OR ANNIHILATIOIST. 1G9 

opinion it makes no alteration in the state of the 
case. Here it is not the question what men in 
general are, but what they in general might be and 
ought to be. The truly wise and virtuous furnish the 
model of this in reality, and from them the nature of 
mankind must be deduced. Neither must the picture 
of Man be exaggerated on the one side any more than 
on the other. Untrue as it is that all men are wise 
and virtuous, so untrue is it that the number of the 
wise and virtuous is so extremely small. To assert 
the former is merely telling an untruth ; to assert the 
latter is to be guilty at once of untruth and injustice : 
to maintain the former is but venial enthusiasm, 
excessive benevolence ; to maintain the latter is 
slander and misanthropy. There are still, God be 
thanked, men of talents and integrity in all classes, 
who delight in the acquisition of knowledge and the 
practice of virtue, and who for that very reason strive 
to enlarge the sphere of both. We must only not 
circumscribe our notion of wisdom within too narrow a 
compass, nor overstrain that of virtue. If, to be sure, 
the moral philosopher will not admit any but those 
who pursue his own science to be entitled to the epi- 
thet of wise ; if the mathematician and the astronomer 
make the same exception ; then indeed the number 
of the wise will be small. Where then is this 
standard of wisdom fixed, and when have mankind 
acknowledged it to be the only correct one ? A man 
may be wise without being precisely a Newton, a Des 
Cartes, an Euler, or a Herschel. Accurate ideas on 



170 IMMORTALITY, 

the truths and subjects most important to mankind, 
and the knowledge connected with the conduct of 
life, are perhaps the height of wisdom ; and in like 
manner not only is he a virtuous man who dies for 
the community, but also every one who lives for 
it. The latter is often more serviceable to society by 
his life, than the former by his death. Of what bene- 
fit to it is, for example, the death of so many thou- 
sands who have fallen in indecisive skirmishes ? Nei- 
ther is it requisite, in order to live for society, to fill a 
lofty station and to fill it properly ; it is possible even 
in the lowest class of all to be a very useful and con- 
sequently a very good man. 

And why have the higher branches of human know- 
ledge no charms for innumerable individuals ? Why 
are innumerable others mere slaves to their lusts ? Is 
it not wholly and solely owing to this — that they did 
not receive such an education as duly cultivated their 
reason, and that, left to themselves, they fell into 
gross sensuality, which, as the property of animal 
natures, is best suited to men who remain almost 
wholly animal. They perhaps received a somewhat 
superior but yet not perfect education, who, when 
they obtain a competence, relinquish the science by 
which it was gained ; and those who do good no longer 
than while they derive some temporal advantages from 
it. Reason must indeed be cultivated in a consider- 
able degree before the desire of truth and virtue 
awakes and becomes insatiable : but this desire is no 
Tnore an artificial impulse than the longing after im- 



OR ANNIHILATIUN. 171 

mortality, because it arises immediately from tlie cul- 
tivation of reason, and Man is destined to cultivate 
his reason. How then is it possible to come to such 
a conclusion as this : — '^ Because the desire to ad- 
vance for ever in wisdom and virtue does not exist in 
all mankind, it affords to those in whom it does exist 
no guarantee for its everlasting gratification !" — Would 
it not be much more correct to argue thus : — " Because 
this desire springs immediately from the cultivation of 
reason, and every man is endowed with reason in order 
that he may cultivate it, those who here remain 
stupid and vicious must in the next life also be be- 
hind the wise and the virtuous ?" 

But how, if this so much vaunted desire of perfec- 
tion in the wise and the good were nothing more than 
that instinct which impels mankind in general to keep 
advancing in all things ; and if both merely differed 
like genus and species. What else is insatiable am- 
bition than the incessant desire of more ? What is 
the increasing fondness for expense but the same de- 
sire? Is not the adventurer continually becoming 
more daring? Are not the .swindler and the robber 
always devising means to surpass their former achieve- 
ments ? It is every where the same impulse, keep ad- 
'cancing / — only under different forms, according to 
the circumstances to which it is directed. The one 
directs it to possessions and money, a second to ho- 
nours, a third to knavery, and a fourth to wisdom and 
virtue. As the philosopher cannot discover established 
truths enough, so the old gossip can .never hear 



172 IMMORTALITY, 

scandal enough. As the philanthropist can never do 
good enough, so the miser can never scrape together 
money enough. As he who is fond of life cannot live 
long enough, so he v^ho is weary of life cannot get 
rid of it soon enough. As the virtuous man knows 
no limits for his virtue, neither does the villain for his 
wickedness. Should you not then rather draw this 
inference : — " As the miser cannot here gratify his 
insatiable desire for money, there must be a life after 
death, in which he will gratify it " — or — ■'' Because 
the rogue, according to his ideas, is not subtle enough 
here in his knaveries, there must be a life after death 
in which he shall carry them to the highest pitch of 
perfection?" 

What inferences ! Is it decorous, in discussing so 
grave a matter as the destination of man, to indulge 
in such ? But — if it is : the very insatiability of ava- 
rice and ambition, the very increasing knavery of the 
swindler, upon the general principle, that they are 
nothing but the impulse Onward I only differently 
modified and directed, guarantee the destination of 
man to immortality ; in the same manner as the insati- 
able thirst of the wise for superior wisdom and the inde- 
fatigable aspiring of the virtuous after superior virtue. 
It is true, that because the miser cannot here fully 
gratify his desire of money, there must be another 
life after death ; it is true, that because the swindler 
cannot here fully gratify his knavish disposition, there 
must be another life after death ; but it is indecorous 
to infer that in this life after death the one will fully 



OR ANNIHILATION. 173 

gratify his avarice and the other his knavery. These 
are perversions of the subUme instinct of Man. — the 
instinct of perfectibihty ; but the longing after mere 
wisdom and the aspiring after more virtue are its true, 
its essentially human directions, and it is in such only 
that the instinct of perfection can reckon upon complete 
gratification ; for it cannot possibly be given to Man 
in order to make his imperfection perfect. And — 
consider only what pains it requires to become wise — 
what self-denial to become virtuous ! 

" O yes, and what pains it costs also to acquire 
wealth, what efforts to gain distinction !" 

Certainly : but there are some who are born rich 
and illustrious ; — did you ever hear of people who 
were born wise, or who have been heroes of virtue 
from their cradles ? 

" It is not easier to be a villain than a saint ; it is 
as difficult to act the perfect fool as to be a philo- 
sopher." 

This is in fact applicable to particular cases only. 
To act the perfect fool, on the stage for instance, may- 
be difficult ; but to be a perfect fool is the easiest 
matter in the world. A person need only not learn 
any thing, and he is sure of succeeding. In like man- 
ner it is no doubt difficult to learn to be what is called 
a conjuror or juggler; but, in order to be a worthless 
and vicious man, all that a person need do is to give 
himself up to his sensual appetites. If we vv^ould de- 
rive honour from the pains we take, those pains must 
be bestowed on a worthy object. The more pains and 



174 IMMORTALITY, 

industry we bestow on useless things and buffooneries, 
the more contemptible we thereby render ourselves ; 
and the more heinous the wickedness, the more de- 
testable the heart that can practise it. Wisdom and 
virtue then are alone useful — wisdom and virtue are 
alone honourable. 

Now consider the philosopher, the man of science, 
the enquirer after truth — how closely he applies him- 
self to study and meditation ! How many social plea- 
sures he cheerfully foregoes, that he may not be dis- 
turbed in his aspirations after knowledge ! How many 
nights he watches, that from individual truths he may 
arrive at a connected system of truth ! It is scarcely 
possible to believe that incessant meditation is not 
more arduous than incessant amusement. It is scarce- 
ly possible to believe that it is not easier to sleep than 
to devote the hours of rest to unwearied study. Con- 
sider in like manner the indefatigable philanthropist, 
the man who sacrifices himself for justice and inno- 
cence — does it cost him nothing to adhere faithfully 
to his principles? Does it cost him nothing to re- 
nounce his private interest which he might gratify 
with little trouble, and to vanquish passions by which 
thousands suffer themselves to be conquered and en- 
slaved ? 

" Who bids them act thus ? If it is more arduous 
to be a philosopher than no philosopher, a saint than 
no saint, abstain from the pursuit of wisdom and vir- 
tue ; or look not for any compensation for the pains 



OR ANNIHILATION. 175 

which the one and the efforts which the other costs 

you." 

Here the matter seems to me to be approaching to 
a crisis. All now depends on the question : Is Man 
destined to he wise and good, or not ? I. owe it to my- 
self to discuss this question more fully than 1 have 
yet done. 



17G IMMORTALITY, 



SEVENTEENTH MEDITATION. 

CONTINUATION OF THE PRECEDING ARGUMENT. 

If indeed Man were to undertake any thing beyond 
or contrary to his destination, he would punish him- 
self and he would have none to blame but himself for 
the misery which would thence ensue. But who shall 
determine what is his destination ? Who has a right 
to decide this point? — who indeed can pronounce 
such a decision as shall not be liable to objection ? 
Diogenes perhaps, or Rousseau, or some other heretic 
in the doctrine of Man, who would fain make Esqui- 
maux or New Zealanders of us ? By whom has he 
been authorized to do so ? 

No, nothing but the nature of Man itself, his con- 
dition, constitution and whole situation, can determine 
the destination of Man. He is surrounded by a vast 
world fraught with the materials of knowledge for 
him ; he possesses the power of collecting these ma- 
terials and he alone. All these materials would be there 
absolutely to no purpose, were he to leave them uncol- 
lected. The grains of corn indeed would be sought 



OR ANNIHILATION. 177 

after, but not the stars in the firmament. Scarcely 
has he exercised for a time his inferior knowing facul- 
ty when the higher awakes. He forms general con- 
ceptions, determines by them the relations of things 
that are exposed to his view, discovers by means of 
them hidden relations, draws inferences, links toge- 
ther series of conclusions, and thereby raises himself 
to what may be properly denominated science. Not 
till then is he enabled to take a comprehensive view 
of the objects around him ; not till then does he dis- 
cern the order, the beauty, and the perfection of the 
universe. As these would have remained wholly un- 
observed and unadmired had he not observed and ad- 
mired them, so is he capable of continuing to admire 
them more and more. His consciousness calls him 
back at times from the universe to himself. He learns 
to distinguish himself clearly from other things, at- 
tains to a conception of his mind, feels the importance 
of investigating the relation in v/hich the external 
world stands to himself, considers how to make it more 
and more useful to him, and is thus obliged to pene- 
trate deeper and deeper into the objects themselves, 
their powers, and connexions. Consequently, he is des- 
tined to the acquisition of knowledge, and wisdom is 
his vocation. 

Not wisdom alone, but virtue also, is his vocation. 
No sooner has he become an admirer of the perfec- 
tion of the world, than he feels that he must not re- 
main behind the world in perfection. He feels that in 
his sentiments and actions there ought to be the same 

N 



178 IMMORTALITY, 

harmorjy as in all the operations of Nature around 
him. He feels that by the cultivation of his moral 
essence he is to crown the beauty of all Nature. The 
knowledge of the relations of the external w^orld to 
himself teaches him at once the duties he owes it ; 
and these he, as a part of the whole, must make it a 
law most sacredly to fulfil. 

I have read over again this evidence, that Man is 
destined to wisdom and virtue, to see whether any 
link is wanting in the chain, but I find it perfect and 
complete. This being the case, it holds good, and 
that so much the more because it is suited to every 
capacity. 

To the question then — Who bids Man to be wise and 
good, if wisdom costs him such pains, and virtue such 
sacrifices ? — the answer is — His nature. Now it is 
obvious that every being besides him follows the in- 
stincts of its nature, without even knowing what it 
does ; and he, the only being endowed with reason, 
is he not to follow the instincts of his ? What an in- 
congruous creature would he be in this case again ! 
Admitting however, that Man ceases to exist when he 
dies, for what purpose has he become wise and vir- 
tuous ? For what purpose has he amassed such a 
store of liberal knowledge and generous sentiments ? 
What has been the object of the cultivation of his 
rational and moral essence ? Has he then been 
obliged to cultivate himself merely to be at last anni- 
hilated ? 



OR ANNIHILATION. 179 

" But — is not the whole material world in the same 
predicament ? Does not every thing develope itself 
merely to be at last annihilated ?" 

To this objection it may be justly replied — The 
whole material world cannot have any other fate ; it 
has intrinsic impossibility of everlasting duration . The 
mind of Man on the contrary can have another late, 
and it is possible that it may continue to exist after 
the dissolution of the body ; why then shall it not em- 
brace with confidence the belief in its future existence? 
And besides — what is annihilation in the material 
world ? Nothing but the annihilation of the forms : 
the mass remains and is employed again for other 
forms. But the knowledge and virtue of Man are in 
the strictest sense annihilated, if he ceases to exist in 
death ; for knowledge is not a property of his moul- 
dering flesh, neither is virtue inherent in his bones. 
Both, when they are reduced to dust, pass over into 
other bodies ; and if they afterwards contribute again 
to the composition of a human body, the spirit which 
inhabits it must begin again, like the first, to collect 
knowledge and virtue. To what end then the store of 
high conceptions and generous sentiments collected by 
any mortal ? Every other store that Man amasses is 
of benefit to somebody after his death. Nay, even the 
store of earth which he has collected in his body is 
again of benefit to the earth. But whom shall his 
knowledge and virtuous dispositions benefit after his 
death, unless they then prove beneficial to himself? 
N 2 



180 IMMORTALITY, 

Shall each of his general conceptions return to the in- 
dividual things from which he derived it ? and each of 
his moral conclusions to the propositions from which 
he formed it ? None but he can make use of his wis- 
dom and virtue, none but he can appropriate the 
smallest portion of them to himself. They can but 
remain his property and his alone ; or, in other words, 
he must himself remain. 

" Has not then the wise man employed and bene- 
fited by his wisdom, and the upright man by his inte- 
grity, as long as he lived ? Have they not been pro- 
ductive of benefit and happiness to them on all sides ? 
With this then they must be content. They have felt 
happy through them so long as they existed, and thus 
the aim of both is attained." 

It is true, the wise man derives high gratification 
from the possession of his knowledge, from his pro- 
gressive advance in it, and from its application. In 
like manner he enjoys, from the consciousness that he 
surpasses the great mass of mankind in virtue and 
the performance of noble actions, the most exquisite 
delight. But for this very reason there arises within 
him the most ardent desire to enjoy still longer — to 
enjoy for ever — those gratifications of wisdom and 
those delights of virtue. There is not in his nature 
any intrinsic contradiction to this desire ; on the con- 
trary there is intrinsic possibility of its being gratified. 
Is he, who so earnestly desires to continue for ever to 
cultivate his noble faculties, not authorised to anti- 
cipate the gratification of his wish ? Has he not a 



OR ANNIHILATION. 181 

right to found this anticipation on the congruity of 
his nature, which must absolutely be, because there is 
congruity in the nature of all other beings ? 

And then — is the possession of his wisdom and vir- 
tue really so undisturbed, are the delights which he 
derives from them really so pure, as to be recompense 
sufficient for the zeal and perseverance with which he 
acquired them ? Are they recompense sufficient for 
so many thousand self-denials which he practises for 
their sake ? How often does he involuntarily tire in 
his researches after truth, and is obliged to suspend 
them ! How often bodily affliction or dejection of 
mind render him less fit for their pursuit ! How often 
is he interrupted by strong sensible impressions, to 
which he is forced against his will to submit ! His 
attention is divided ; he drops the thread of his ideas, 
or loses the accurate view of their succession ; an un- 
demonstrated idea creeps in among them, and he 
draws false conclusions, like an arithmetician who has 
blundered in his calculations. But should he meet 
with none of these impediments, should he be healthy 
and cheerful and undisturbed enough to prosecute his 
meditations, he soon arrives, to his extreme mortifica- 
tion, first here, then there, at the limits of light and 
certainty. There he stands and sighs. If he ventures 
beyond these limits, he enters the region of mere pro- 
bability, with which he must be content, or the land 
of hypothesis, where treacherous meteors lead him 
astray. Feeling himself called to the discovery of 
Truth, he strives to arrive at Truth ; but in the midst 



182 IMMORTALITY, ' 

of his efforts, it seems as if she were merely making 
game of him ; as if she first enticed him to her with a 
promise to reveal herself to him, then retired from him 
as fast as he approached her, and at last wholly with- 
drew herself from his sight. — Must not this evident 
vocation of man to truth on the one hand, and this 
impossibility of completely attaining truth on the 
other, involve a tacit promise that in a future higher 
state he shall certainly arrive at it? As this promise 
is the strongest encouragement for him to pursue his 
inquiries, and his only consolation when he finds 
himself baffled in his efforts, may he not confidently 
hope for its fulfilment ? 

In like manner, how often is the virtuous man dis- 
turbed in the enjoyment of his goodness by the con- 
sciousness of the frailties that still adhere to his na- 
ture ! How often is he overtaken by an impetuous 
desire, that deranges the equipoise of his heart, which 
he fondly deemed immoveable ! How often is he inter- 
rupted by others, sometimes by enemies, sometimes even 
by friends, at least in the fulness of the enjoyment of 
himself ! How often does he incur the censure of the 
world for his noblest sentiments, judgments, and coun- 
sels ! How often does bodily suffering affect the se- 
renity of his mind ! How rarely are his noblest ac- 
tions crowned with success ! Sometimes circumstances 
are not suited to them ; sometimes he meets with an 
unworthy object ; sometimes he is thwarted by a vil- 
lain, to whose plans they run counter ; sometimes 



OR ANNIHILATION. 183 

they are not so beneficial as he expected ; nay, some- 
times they affright him by the mischief which through 
some accident they occasion. Must not in like man- 
ner the evident vocation of Man to virtue on the one 
hand, and the impossibility of completely possessing, 
enjoying, and applying virtue on the other, involve a 
tacit promise that in a future higher state he shall cer- 
tainly arrive at it ? As this promise is the strongest 
encouragement to perseverance in virtue, and the only 
consolation for him when his best actions miscarry, 
may he not reckon without the slightest doubt upon 
its fulfilment ? 

If not, it would admit of a question whether Man 
acts wisely in seeking to become wise, and whether 
he acts rightly in striving to become virtuous. Is he 
then merely destined for wisdom and virtue, and not, 
like all other beings, for happiness also ? Surely not ; 
only in his case there has been made this exception, 
that he is susceptible of a two-fold happiness, an 
internal and an external. If he were never completely 
to attain the former, if even the useless striving after it 
were frequently to deprive him of the latter, what 
measures ought he to adopt ? To attain external 
happiness he need not be very wise and still less very 
virtuous. A very small degree of reason, which he 
would acquire without trouble, merely by living from 
childhood in society, would suffice for this purpose ; 
and he need but feign goodness of heart, like our 
Pharisees, who under the cloak of virtue grasp at 



184 IMMORTALITY, 

every pleasure of life, and nevertheless enjoy the 
external benefit of virtue. Do not these perform in 
fact the most lucrative part ? 

This must indeed be obvious to every one who 
reflects on life and the enjoyment of life ; and it was 
this very thing which so strongly excited me to satisfy 
myself respecting that momentous subject, the desti- 
nation of Man, that I might be able to form a right 
plan for my brief terrestrial career. When I then consi- 
der our sensualists who, unconcerned about all higher 
knowledge, pass their lives in a continued round of 
pleasures ; who deign to bestow no farther thought 
on Nature than so far as regards the weather or their 
various crops ; who pay little attention to their duties, 
perform them at most but superficially, or even keep 
others to perform them in their stead ; who, on the 
other hand^ exert all their ingenuity to devise and 
vary the enjoyments of sense ; who sometimes eat, at 
others drink, sleep, gamble, dance, hunt ; who pursue 
this course year after year and to the very end of their 
lives — are not these the wisest men, if their existence 
terminates in death ? If it is not possible to exist any 
longer, does not he act most judiciously who enjoys 
that which is as fully as he can ? It is of no use to 
object that Man is not merely a sensible, but also a 
moral being, and that it is therefore his duty, even 
though he were annihilated in death, to cultivate his 
moral nature as much as possible, because every other 
being besides him, if it is allowed time, cultivates itself 
as highly as it can. Man, however, has just as good 



• OR ANNIHILATION. 185 

a right to happiness as all other beings ; and if the 
cultivation of his moral nature affords him no perfect 
happiness, and even deprives him of the sensual which 
he might enjoy in full measure, who is there to impose 
it on him as a duty ? I should, on the contrary, be 
inclined to believe, that it is precisely his moral na- 
ture which furnishes the strongest argument for his 
existence after death. What ! a being which pene- 
trates the eternal laws of Nature, on whom they are 
in a manner essentially impressed, and who is capable 
of imitating them, not be indestructible, eternal, as 
those laws themselves ? 

If, however, there is another life after death, then 
is the course pursued by these sensualists most per- 
verse and preposterous. They then cultivate precisely 
that nature in them v/hich is subject to destruction 
and wholly neglect that which alone will last for ever. 
Most sincerely do I rejoice that I have entered upon 
this investigation. Soon, very soon, my plan of life 
will be formed. I now consider it as almost impossi- 
ble that I should ever join the ranks of those who 
live solely for sensual gratifications. It seems to me 
much more probable that I shall continue to exist 
after death than that I shall not. This new argument 
that I have just been discussing has made a very 
strong impression upon me. Which position deserves 
the preference — that a being which is capable of 
advancing to eternity in wisdom and virtue ; which 
has internal and external possibility of doing so ; 
which longs and cannot help longing to make eternal 



186 IMMORTALITY, 

advances in both — that this being shall, in the midst 
of its course, or when it has proceeded but a very 
little way, be suddenly and cruelly stopped, and, as 
it were, for a punishment for striving to be wise and 
good, be deprived of existence altogether : or, that 
it shall here, agreeably to its faculties and wishes, 
acquire only the first rudimeats of wisdom, make 
only its first essays in virtue, and then, as a reward 
for having done so, be removed to a higher state, 
where it shall allay its thirst of wisdom, gratify its 
desire of being perfectly virtuous, find a sphere opened 
for it in which it shall exert the utmost activity, in 
which its operations shall be completely successful, 
and in which it shall feel inexpressibly happy in the 
beneficial results of its activity — once more, which of 
these positions deserves the preference, the latter or 
the former ? By my reason, I swear, the latter ! 

With this idea I will repair to the grave of my 
father. The evening is so calm, so serene ; my heart 
serene and calm as the evening — delight for me 
within and without ! 



O father ! father ! never yet did I feel such tranquil 
delight at this hallowed spot as at this moment. 
Dost thou, O father, really continue to live — to live 
in loftier regions — in regions of light and perfection ? 
If so, O appear to me here in the still twilight of 
this serene evening — here, at this to me so sacred 
spot, where thy bones are mouldering into dust ! 
Appear to me but for a moment and give me positive 



OR ANNIHILATION. 187 

proof of a future state for Man. The illustrious 
Nazarite, indeed, once said, that whoever should not 
believe Moses and the Prophets, would not believe 
though one should appear to him from the dead. 
But the question then was concerning repentance, 
and not concerning the belief of a future life : for 
long might one listen to Moses and the Prophets, 
without hearing one word from them on that mo- 
mentous subject. Besides, I do listen to Moses and 
the Prophets, in the proper signification — I listen to 
Reason, which alone could render Moses and the 
Prophets worth listening to, if they were to speak. 
It is the voice of Reason to which I have listened, 
that has brought me so far as to find probability in a 
future state ; thy appearance then, O my fathery 
would bring me to certainty on that point. 

But — what do I ask of thee ? Thou canst not ap- 
pear to me even if thou dost continue to exist. In 
this case thou art no longer on the same planet with 
me. The falling- off of thy earthly garment enabled 
thee to take thy flight from the earth ; in order to 
sink to it again thou must be enabled to re-assume a 
gross body like that which thou hast quitted. And 
shouldst thou even show thyself to me, and should I 
at the moment believe that I had obtained the strong- 
est evidence in favour of a future state, would this ap- 
pear to me to-morrow upon cooler reflection as any 
evidence at all ? Should I not, nay, must I not con- 
sider thy appearance as a mere illusion of my imagi- 
nation ? Should I be disposed to assert that, because 



188 IMMORTALITY, 

thou appearedst to me at the moment when I had 
called thee, thy appearance must have been something 
real : this very coincidence would furnish the strongest 
proof that, at the moment when my imagination was 
most active, its strongest effect, the effect that I be- 
lieved I saw thee, must be produced. 

Well then, father, if thou canst not appear to me, 
but continuest to exist, act at least from thy world 
upon me in mine ! When, for instance, I pursue my 
examination of the arguments in behalf of a future 
state, cause me to be duly sensible of their force ! 

But thou canst not do this either. Impossible as it 
is to travel from one world to another, so impossible is 
it to exercise an influence from one world upon ano- 
ther. Thou canst not even know that I am now pre- 
ferring such a request to thee. 

For what purpose then did I come to thy grave? 
What do I seek— what do I expect here? Nothing, 
but that the thought of thee, who wast so wise and so 
virtuous, and who becamest so by thy belief in a fu- 
ture state — this thought, which can no where affect me 
so powerfully as here where thy beloved remains are 
deposited — that this thought of thee may animate me 
with fresh zeal to prosecute my meditations. Reason, 
which alone must decide, will certainly fix my belief 
without thy appearance and thy influence ; and all its 
farther arguments will make that impression on me 
which they can and ought to make. 

Thou, my father, pursuedst a different course from 
what I have taken. I have even ventured to quit the 



oil ANNIHILATION. 189 

way along which thou hadst conducted me. Forgive 
me, it was not my fault. Perhaps, however, both 
ways may meet at last, and then thy son will in thine 
eyes have more honour from his belief than thou from 
thine. I am now not far from the goal of thy faith ; 
I may perhaps arrive at it in a few days. Then, as 
Christ was to thee, so wisdom and virtue shall be to 
me, my life, my death, my gain. Then will I pre- 
pare myself in the most worthy manner for the great 
change of worlds ; in the most worthy manner I will- 
prepare to follow thee, to rejoin thee, and to live with 
thee for ever ! 



190 



IMMOUTALITY, 



EIGHTEENTH MEDITATION. 

SIXTH ARGUMENT IN BEHALF OF A FUTURE STATE. 

Yes, now I clearly perceive what I yesterday sus- 
pected, that I should to-day be obliged to consider 
any apparition of my father that might have mani- 
fested itself to me at his grave as nothing more or 
less than a mere phantom of my imagination. Let me 
then calmly pursue my enquiries. 

That Man is called to virtue has been already de- 
monstrated ; but another evidence in favour of this 
proposition may- be adduced. Man lives continually 
in the society of his kind. If it did not occur to him 
to cultivate himself as Man, which however could not 
be the case, still the wild beasts would compel him 
to do so. We, who have lived for hundreds and thou- 
sands of years in society, have to be sure no concep- 
tion of men being compelled by the brutes to associate 
together : but all those who settle in a country pre- 
viously uninhabited find themselves in this predica- 
ment. They are lost unless they unite. And if we 
are no longer compelled by the wild beasts to live con- 



OR ANNIHILATION. 191 

tinually in society, how could the propagation of our 
species go on without it ? Men are not like the cater- 
pillars, which are hatched by the sun, or like the chick 
which picks up the groats as soon as it is out of the 
shell, or like any of those animals which at the ex- 
piration of a year have no need of their parents. How 
much longer the human young want the care and pro- 
tection of theirs ! Thus domestic society immediately 
follows the association which men are compelled to 
form by the brutes. In this little society spring up 
various relations, in the equipoise of which solely and 
alone consists the happiness of those who live in it. 
Children stand in relation to their parents as persons 
needing help to helpers and vice versa. If parents do 
not help the children, the children are lost ; and if 
the children do not suffer themselves to be helped by 
the parents, that is, obey them, both parents and 
children are lost. Here then are social duties on a 
small scale, that is domestic duties, and on their mu- 
tual fulfilment all domestic happiness depends. The 
increasing number of small domestic societies gra- 
dually approach nearer to one another and form a 
larger community. Each family is a state in minia- 
ture, and each state a family on an enlarged scale. 
There now arise new relations, the equipoise of which 
also constitutes all the happiness of the larger civil 
community. Unless its members act consistently with 
these relations, the whole state is miserable ; and thus 
arise public duties, on the mutual fulfilment of which 
all public prosperity depends. 



192 IMMORTALITY, 

The fulfilment of all these social duties, domestic 
and public, is called — virtue. If Man is compelled, in 
the first place, by the brutes to the constant associ- 
ation with his kind, and in the next by the instinct of 
procreation to live in domestic society, and by circum- 
stances naturally arising out of these to form civil 
communities — how can it admit of a doubt that his 
vocation is the vocation to virtue ? What would be- 
come of domestic, what of public society, were not 
their members to act consistently with their relations 
to each other — that is — to fulfil their respective du- 
ties ? 

Many of these duties indeed are rendered light by 
Nature, by voluntary kindness, by affection and friend- 
ship, and by favouring circumstances ; but there are 
others which neither Nature, nor affection, nor friend- 
ship, tends to alleviate, nay, the violation of which cir- 
cumstances even render convenient. What is there 
to determine Man nevertheless to fulfil them ? As a 
rational being he perceives that social life is a tacit 
compact. Every compact presupposes reciprocal du- 
ties. Why should he fulfil his, if others neglect to 
fulfil theirs towards him ? At any rate it is in this 
case more convenient for him to violate his duties 
also. What is to pr<^vent his doing sO; if he must not 
believe in an hereafter ? What ? 

" The idea that he is a moral being ; that he ought 
to act consistently with his moral nature, and to find 
in the consciousness of having done so his reward and 
compensation for all the losses which may thence 



OR ANNIHILATION. 193 

accrue ; the idea, that he must regulate his mode 
of acting, not by the probable consequences of his 
actions, but by his inward obligation to perform them : 
the idea that he must do good, because it is good, with- 
out calculating whether it is good for himself or not." 
All this sounds heroically beautiful forsooth ! But 
is it not demanding infinitely too much of the great ma- 
jority of mankind to expect them merely to rise to the 
level of such ideas ? For this are required a highly 
cultivated understanding, and an extremely delicate 
moral feeling ; both which are results of a perfect 
education alone. But how are the great multitude 
educated ? Do they learn to apply their understand- 
ing to any thing but the objects around them, which 
belong to their future extremely contracted sphere and 
to their future extremely grovelling mode of life ? 
And — what sort of moral instruction does an indivi- 
dual of this class receive ? He grows up among per- 
sons who abandon themselves to the grossest passions ; 
the first and the most impressive education, the educa- 
tion by example, which he receives, is horrible. By the 
time that he is ten years old, he is as depraved as those 
from whom he sprung. How is the oral instruction of 
the teacher afterwards to take from the heart those 
tendencies which the far more efficacious instruction 
by deeds have already imparted to it ? And what 
sort of instruction again does one of the multitude 
receive from his teachers ? Morality is scarcely ever 
thought of. They beat into him unprofitable reli- 
gious dogmas — whic" he merely learns by rote ; they 
o 



194 IMMOllTALITY, 

condemn good works, but give him the ten command- 
ments, teUing him at the same time that he cannot 
fulfil them, and comforting him on this account with 
the perfect merit of Christ who has fulfilled the law 
in his stead. Are not innumerable individuals educat- 
ed in this manner even at the present day ? How 
can we desire of all these that they should find the 
smallest — I will not say the strongest — impulse to what 
is good in representations for which they have no 
feeling whatever, in representations of their moral 
nature and of the internal obligation to virtue ! 

Nay more — ^The thousands and tens of thousands who 
have been thus educated are afterwards thrown into 
trades and professions, in which they are obliged from 
morning till night, and day after day, to drudge at 
bodily labour, and in general severe labour, in order to 
earn a scanty subsistence. Their minds moreover are 
thereby depressed, and first lose the power and then 
the inclination to elevate themselves to the considera- 
tion of their higher nature. Neither indeed have they 
time for this. Their toilsome occupations completely 
blunt the yet remaining moral sense. The sight of those 
who possess immoderately too much, while they have too 
little and can scarcely preserve life, renders them dis- 
contented, envious, fraudulent, and not a thought of 
doing good ever enters their minds unless they are 
paid for it. Those who without this inducement are vir- 
tuous comparatively with the others are so merely be- 
cause the hope of a better life, in which they shall be 
rewarded for their virtue, supports them ; and the 



OR ANNIHILATION. 19.5 

very wicked are deterred from extreme wickedness 
merely by the fear of punishment m the next world. 
Reward and punishment from without are the only 
motives which determine their actions. 

If then the belief in a future life were taken away, 
numberless individuals would no longer have any mo- 
tive to do good that would not be rewarded, or to ab- 
stain from wickedness that would not be punished. 
What would then become of human society ? All these 
persons, when they had nothing more either to hope 
or to fear, would seek rightfully or wrongfully to ob- 
tain as large a share as possible of sensual pleasures 
and of temporal prosperity. All social relations would 
be of course destroyed ; universal confusion would en- 
sue, and the philosopher who knew so little of the 
human mind as to cause this mischief by overthrow^- 
ing the belief in eternity, would not be able to restore 
order by all his sublime declamations on the dignity 
of human nature and the obligation of man to virtue. 
A doctrine therefore on which the well-being of human 
society manifestly depends must be true ; or here 
again there would be a prodigious incongruity in the 
state of Man. He would be evidently destined for 
society, and in society he would find his ruin. 

" Is this argument really of such weight as it appears 
to be ? Must a doctrine be intrinsically true, because 
thousands and tens of thousands, merely inasmuch as 
they have been badly educated and afterwards find 
themselves in such wretched circumstances, need it in 
order to be virtuous? Indeed, if their superiors will 
o 2 



196 IMMORTALITY, 

not provide for their better education and the im- 
provement of their condition, it is absolutely neces- 
sary that a doctrine of this kind should be preached 
to them for the purpose of keeping them under due 
restraint : and if they take it upon trust it is well. But 
give them a better education, render their condition 
more comfortable, and they will not need the doctrine 
of a future state, but do what is right, from obedience 
to the law of reason, from a sense of duty, and from 
a living conviction of their internal obligation to do 
so." 

This proposal is liable to one grand objection, 
namely, that it is impracticable. What can they be 
thinking of by whom it is brought forward ? It is in- 
deed a truth, a lamentable truth, that too little has 
yet been done for the education of the lower classes, 
and that the deficiency might easily be supplied. 
The influence of the improved system of education 
adopted in the course of the past century has yet ex- 
tended only to the higher and middling classes. But 
still, to give the lower classes such an education as 
shall instil into them that delicate and correct moral 
feeling which is requisite, if they are to do what is 
right merely from internal obligation and obedience to 
the law of reason, is absolutely impossible. 

How is this education to be provided? — Improved 
public schools effect much ; but they could not to all 
eternity accomplish so much as would be required in 
this case. Before children are sent to school their 
morals have been corrupted at home ; and let their 



OR ANNIHILATION. 197 

teacher afterwards sow ever so good moral seed, as 
soon as they leave the school this seed is choked by 
the weeds of the bad example set them anew by their 
pare4its. There ought therefore to be public insti- 
tutions, where children should not merely receive scho- 
lastic instruction, but where they should constantly 
reside — institutions in which they should be placed, 
not as soon as they were old enough to take lessons, 
but as soon as they were born. In short, all con- 
nexion between them and their parents must cease at 
their birth. Is this scheme practicable in populous 
states ? Nay, if it even were practicable, is it not re- 
pugnant to humanity? Consequently, the present 
generation must retain its share in the education of 
the rising generation in the lowest classes, and so long 
as this is the case, a perfect education for the mass 
of the people is totally out of the question. The pre- 
sent generation must first be reformed, if it shall bring 
up a better ; and how is this reform to be effected ? 
What then can our philosophers, who propose such 
plans, be thinking of? It is absolutely impossible to 
raise mankind in general so much as that they should 
acquire that refined sense of moral goodness which 
must exist if this shall solely and alone produce uni- 
versal virtue. 

And supposing all men could be so raised, what 
v/ould be the natural result of this ? The total over- 
throw of society. Would men, thus refined, feel dis- 
posed to remain in the lowest classes ? How would 
this delicate moral feeling accord with laborious, mean 



198 IMMORTALITY, 

and gross occupations ? This kind of work must 
neveitheless be done ; and if society shall subsist, 
there is much more hard work to be done than light. 
There must therefore not only be lower classes, but 
they must be the most numerous of any. If the mul- 
titude, refined to the degree here contemplated, were 
driven by force or by necessity into the lower classes, 
it would soon lose there the finer feelings which it 
had acquired. It is certainly true that more might 
be done for the improvement of the condition of the 
lower classes : but to place the people of those classes 
in such a situation as to retain the fine moral feeling 
which our philosophers pretend to possess, and which 
is actually requisite if it shall be incitement enough to 
virtue, is absolutely impossible ; or you would meta- 
morphose the lower classes into upper. 

It is not then owing to chance, or solely to circum- 
stances vv^hich might be altered, but to the nature of 
the thing, to the nature of civil society itself, that by 
far the smaller number of mankind elevate themselves 
to so high a sense of duty as to render all other incite- 
ments to virtue superfluous. If this then is a demon- 
strated truth, and if on the one hand men are destined 
to society, and in society can be happy through virtue 
alone, but if on the other the multitude would not be 
virtuous if there were no existence after death ; this 
argument is of great weight, and, when added to the 
preceding evidences, it certainly raises the probability 
of the existence of Man after death to a still higher step. 



OR ANNIHILATION. 199 



NINETEENTH MEDITATION. 

FUUTHER CONSIDERATION OF THE SAME ARGU- 
MENT. 

It may further be justly asked, whether the sense of 
duty has ever been so cultivated in any human soul, 
or is capable of being so cultivated, as to suffice to 
keep men virtuous in all circumstances of life. 

This question cannot fail to offend those who main- 
tain the affirmative ; for, in asserting the sufficiency of 
the sense of duty for virtue, they intimate that with 
them it suffices for that purpose : otherwise it would 
be extraordinary that they should require of others 
what they are not capable of themselves. They assert 
it therefore of themselves^ not in direct terms, but by 
implication c Of course then we scandalize them by 
the unexpected question, but we must not mind that, 
Man has indeed no occasion to make himself out to 
be worse than he is ; neither need he consider that 
as an imputation in which there is no imputation. 

The questioB—'What compensation shall I receive 



^00 IMMORTALITY^ 

for it ? — when we have to perform an arduous duty^ 
is natural to all men ; and we need not pry into the 
hearts of philosophers, who take it amiss that they too 
should be suspected of putting to themselves this very 
human question : a very superficial observation of them 
will convince us that this question is put by them also 
at the proper time. Neither can it be taken at all 
amiss of a virtuous man. The wise Nazarene did not 
take it amiss of his disciples, but thought it right to 
answer it, and he answered it in a very satisfactory 
manner. Nay, he himself, the great man, whose 
sense of duty had been cultivated to the utmost, had 
also his moments when he must have asked himself — 
What compennation shall I receive for it ? Besides 
the thought " That I may do as my Father hath com- 
manded me" — his soul dwelt also on this idea — " I have 
glorified thee, O Father ! now glorify thou me !" And 
it was chiefly the latter idea that supported him under 
the last dreadful trial, when the most painful bodily 
sufferings did not permit the form.er to operate with suffi- 
cient force. In his prayer, for example, by which he con- 
secrated himself to his departure, he communed much 
with himself concerning the glory which awaited him 
hereafter for his ignominious death : how much more 
may not his mind have been engaged with it in the hour 
of death itself f Had any one then said to him: — 
" Thy virtue then gains nothing by thy death ; thou 
diest only according to law, but not virtuously; for 
thou hast to do with hope, and that is a motive by 
which nothing virtuous can ever be accompHshed" — 



OR ANNIHILATION. 201 

he might justly have replied : — " Go and suffer thyself 
what I do, thou who requirest of man what is super- 
human ! When thou art suffering like me, thou wilt 
find, as 1 do, thy high-sounding distinction to be mere 
bombast. Be assured that I have attained the utmost 
height to which Man is capable of rising !" 

Hence it is obvious that there are certain situations 
in life where the sense of duty, though ever so highly 
cultivated, is not sufficient to keep Man virtuous^ so 
virtuous as that he should not relax. When, for 
instance, a person is always misrepresented on ac- 
count of his most generous actions ; when those for 
whom they are performed always repay him with 
increasing ingratitude — might not this very naturally 
make such an impression upon him as at length to 
cause him to desist ? If a man, whose enemies in- 
cessantly persecute him, so that for twenty or thirty 
years he has not had one peaceful moment, and has 
no reason to hope for one during the remainder of 
his life, is unexpectedly furnished with an opportunity 
of revenging himself on them in such a manner as 
to insure his future repose — should he not believe 
that he ought to consider this opportunity as a mean 
of deliverance presented to him by Fate itself? If 
any one who, from tenderness of conscience, abstains 
from an illicit traffic that is carried on by a thousand 
others, who feel no such scruples and thrive by means 
of it, finds himself and his family reduced in conse- 
quence to extreme poverty — would it be any wonder 
if he too in time adopted different sentiments ? 



202 IMMOllTALITY, 

But all this is nothing in comparison with the cases 
of real martyrdom which occur in domestic and civil 
life, as they formerly did in the Church. The father 
who is obliged to toil himself to death for his family — 
the husband whose wife harasses him to death— the 
citizen on whom judicial murder is committed — the 
soldier who is forced to sacrifice himself for his coun- 
try — what ! are these too to be debarred from putting 
the question — What compensation shall we recehe for 
it? 

Let it not be urged, that it is the same throughout 
all Nature, in which parts are sacrificed for the whole, 
and therefore the same question ought to be asked in 
regard to them. To this it might justly be replied : 
It makes a great difference whether the being which 
is sacrificed for the whole can put this question itself 
or not. All those inanimate, or if animated, yet irra- 
tional beings, which die or perish for the benefit of 
the whole, cannot ask it : they have no conception of 
their sacrifice, and they must die or perish some time 
or other. Man, on the other hand, can put this ques- 
tion : he knows full well that he is sacrificed, and his 
knowledge gives him a right to enquire — Why am I 
precisely doomed to this fate, and what recompense 
shall I receive for it ? 

As then in all the cases here cited no answer can be 
given to the question if there is not another life after 
death ; it thence follows that Man must hope for im- 
mortality, because he would otherwise have no incen- 
tive to such, in a high degree, good actions, to say 



OR ANNIHILATION. 203 

nothing; of the perseverance in them. He would find 
himself completely forlorn and without any support : 
what then must he do ? Why, at least save the tem- 
poral, since he would have no expectation of the eter- 
nal ; and withdraw himself from every one of those 
duties which might even cost him his existence. 

Philosophers, who nevertheless maintain that even 
in such situations the mere sense of duty ought to 
support the sufferer, have never been subject to trials 
of this kind ; and therefore they must not take it 
amiss of us if we would rather wait to see how they 
would conduct themselves in case they should ever 
befal them. It is still a question too, v/hether those 
who are perfectly sincere, when they assert that their 
mere sense of duty would give them fortitude enough 
to suffer and die for the good cause, may not be in- 
fluenced by an obscure presentiment of eternity. This 
may be the case without their being precisely aware 
that it is so : for we frequently ascribe this or that 
disposition of mind to this or that exciting cause, 
though it originated in a totally different one. Nay, 
it may even be too, that, at some former time at leasts 
the belief in eternity founded, or at any rate strength- 
ened, the sense of duty in these philosophers, and 
that they would not now possess it at all, or not in 
so great a degree, if that belief had never existed in 
them. Who can trace the origin of all his concep- 
tions ? It is not to be denied that all of us from our 
youth learn the doctrine of a future life, and that it iii 
emphatically inculcated as a main point in our reli- 



201- IMMORTALITY, 

gious instruction : what philosopher, then, can deter- 
mine how much or how little influence it formerly had 
in the formation of his sense of duty ? If the latter 
still subsists without the former, does it thence follow 
that it would have been established without it ? If 
the sense of duty had been fully developed before any 
religious instruction was received, the case would be 
widely different. It is on the contrary a fact which 
needs no farther proof, that in all of us it was subse- 
quently developed, and therefore none of us is able to 
calculate how far, not only religion in general, but 
each of its doctrines individually, may have co-ope- 
rated in its developement. 

It is represented as vicious that Man should desire 
advantage from his good actions ; in reality it is no 
such thing. He whose benevolent heart prompts him 
to seek his own happiness in promoting the happiness 
of others, ought not to be taxed with impropriety if 
he wishes eventually to secure something for himself. 

And then — is the good man to carry his disinterest- 
edness so far as even to close the avenues of his heart 
against pleasure on account of his good actions ? No, 
I receive for answer ; in this very pleasure, which 
arises from the consciousness of having acted agree- 
ably to his moral nature, let him find the recompense 
of his virtue and be satisfied with it ! 

Well, that would be something! Poor Man then is 
at least allowed the right not to be obliged to do good 
wholly without reward. He may rejoice then in the 
good he does : he may rejoice by anticipation before 



OR ANNIIIILATlO^r, 205 

he does it; he may rejoice whilst doing it; he may 
rejoice afterwards when he has done it — may he not ? 

" Granted ! But it is the pleasure afterwards that 
is his fairest reward ; for, before the action he does 
not know whether he may even but partially succeed ; 
and while it is being done, he cannot tell for certain 
whether he shall completely succeed : but what de- 
light does it give the heart years afterwards to have 
saved the honour or the life of one's worst enemy ; to 
have drawn upon one's self great persecution by pre- 
venting great villany ; to have incurred the most im- 
minent danger for the public weal ; and to have borne 
severe unmerited sufferings with unshaken fortitude !" 
But in what predicament is this pleasure which a 
man derives from his good works, when he has to suf- 
fer martyrdom itself? Previously, the conception of 
the exquisite agonies attendant on it would make pro- 
bably no other impression than this — Mi/ soul is sor- 
roicful even unto death. In the moments of death the 
agonies themselves cannot produce any pleasure : 
think only of the — I thirst ! And afterwards ? — Where 
is then an afterwards for the martyr, if there is no 
existence after death ? Is it not tv^ident then that, in 
those who consider themselves as possessed of forti- 
tude enough to undergo martyrdom from a mere 
sense of duty, an obscure presentiment of immortality 
co-operates unknown to themselves ? It would be 
extraordinary, if Man should on occasion of his less 
noble actions experience by anticipation the purest 
pleasure before they were performed, the most exqui- 



206 IMMORTALITY, 

site real pleasure during the performance, and many 
years afterwards the sweetly soothing pleasure of re - 
collection ; but that from the noblest of actions, from 
submitting to martyrdom itself, he should neither have 
pleasure by anticipation, nor pleasure at the moment, 
and least of all subsequent pleasure. In this case 
again, what becomes of congruity in his nature ? 

And, if Man be allowed the right of deriving ad- 
vantage from his virtue, in so far as his internal happi- 
ness is increased by it, I cannot see why he might not 
also desire that his external happiness should be in- 
creased by it. He needs this also ; nay, when it is 
wholly wanting, the other is of little or no avail, and 
he is exceedingly disturbed in its enjoyment. If it is 
wrong to say this too, Man must first be taught the 
art of divesting himself of his human nature and ne- 
vertheless remaining Man. Let one of those who re- 
quire this first set us the example, that we may see 
how it is to be done. 

The fact is, when it comes to the pinch and our 
philosophers have to undergo the torture, whether it 
be that commonly so called, or the torture of hunger, 
or the torture of ignominy, or the torture of the gout, 
or any other torture, they show themselves to be men 
just like the rest of us, and thereby confirm the prin- 
ciple — that it is the duty of Man to cherish not only 
his moral but also his sensible nature, and that he has 
of course a right to promote by his good actions not 
only his internal but also his external happiness. 



OR ANNIHILATION, 207^ 

Should he be required entirely to disregard the latter, 
he must find this absolutely incompatible with his na- 
ture ; and the internal alone, if he is to have nothing 
more than that, only procures him in his eyes com- 
pensation for it when he can hope for an eternity, in 
which his external happiness also shall be perfect in 
proportion as he was a loser here by his good actions. 
Any other morality than this may be adapted to trees 
and stones but not to men. 

If there is ever so good a man, if there is any man 
who from a mere sense of duty loves to do good, let 
it cost him what it will, must not such a man take 
still greater pleasure in doing it, if there is a life after 
death ? And were it only with a view that his internal 
happiness might be thereby rendered more durable, 
and that he might enjoy the satisfaction arising from 
his good actions the longer, nay for ever, must not this 
single idea prove a more powerful incentive to good ? 
To deny this would be to manifest an obstinate deter- 
mination to oppose truth. Now, by reason of our moral 
nature it is our duty to hold fast every idea that can 
essentially strengthen us in the performance of our 
duties. The hope of a future state after death evi- 
dently strengthens us in all our duties, especially in 
the more arduous of them — we can have it, for it is 
possible that we continue to exist — we must therefore 
hold fast this hope, and it is our duty to believe in a fu- 
ture state after death. This belongs also to the moral 
order, which, precisely for this reason, that Man is 



208 IMMORTALITY, 

destined by his nature to virtue, cannot be an idle 
dream. 

This argument, I must confess, has led me to a 
conclusion that makes a stronger impression upon me 
than I expected. Happy! thrice happy! I shall soon, 
very soon, walk in the light — I who could at first per- 
ceive nothing but the shadow of death all around 
me ! 



OR A^TNIHILATION. 209 



TWENTIETH MEDITATION. 

SEVENTH ARGUMENT IN BEHALF OF A FUTURE 
STATE. 

Now 1 will not again look back till I have arrived 
at the conclusion of my enquiries. Here I rejoice be- 
fore-hand in the effect which all together they will 
produce upon me ! But this shall not prevent me 
from duly weighing every future position, or cause me 
to find any thing heavier, or on the contrary lighter, 
than it really is. 

One of the first discoveries which our reason makes 
in the external world, and which during the rest of 
our lives forces itself upon our attention, which way 
soever we turn our eyes, is, that all things which exist 
or take place around us stand in the mutual relation 
of causes and effects. No sooner have we made thit> 
observation, than we begin to perceive that this rela- 
tion depends on everlasting laws, and that one of the 
principal of these laws is, that the same kind of causes 
always produce the same kind qf effects. Hence we are 
enabled, if we are attentive observers, to predict many 

p 



210 IMMORTALITY, 

things that will happen, and we mig'ht term this ar- 
rangement the administration of justice in the sensible 
world. 

Needs there now any proof that Man also must be 
subject to this arrangement of Nature, and that too 
agreeably to the same laws ? — he, who on the one 
side, belongs to the sensible world, and whose body is 
composed of the same materials as every thing else? 
— he who unites in himself so many powers, all of 
which may become the causes of effects, and often of 
the greatest effects ? In what a situation would he 
be, if he were exempted from the grand law of Na- 
ture, that the same kind of causes produce the same 
kind of effects ! What should he do to accomplish 
this or that, if he did not know that this or that ap- 
plication of his activity, and the employment of such 
or such means, would produce the desired effect ? If 
his operations invariably led to a different or even a 
contrary result, he would be doomed to be the most 
perplexed of all beings ; his life would be a real game 
of chance ; and the wisest course he could pursue 
after ninety-nine such experiments, would be to let 
the hundredth alone, to fold his hands in his lap, and 
to do absolutely nothing. But, this is not the case. 
When he digs, he really makes a hole, as he intended 
to do, and what he throws up really forms an eleva- 
tion ; when he sets out for a certain point, he actually 
gets nearer to and not farther from it ; when he eats, 
his hunger is really appeased and not sharpened ; 
when he sows wheat, he really reaps wheat and not 



OR ANNIHILATION. 211 

tares, and when he sows tares he really reaps tares 
and not wheat. So far indeed there is the same ad- 
ministration of justice for him as for the rest of the 
sensible world, and the general law of Nature, that the 
same kind of causes always produce the same kind of 
effects, holds good also in regard to him. 

His moral actions are of far higher value than the 
others, and of course there must be on this side too 
the same administration of justice for him. Good 
actions must always have good consequences, and bad 
actions bad consequences. The former are called 
reward, the latter punishment. Virtue then must 
always make him happy, vice always miserable : for 
the same kind of causes must produce the same kind 
of effects, and actions bear the same relation to the 
circumstances that befal men, as causes to effects. 
The honest tradesman then must always have business, 
the dishonest lose his custom ; the temperate man 
must enjoy the best health and attain the greatest 
age, the intemperate be ailing and die early ; the 
frugal man must become rich, the spendthrift poor ; 
the benevolent man must be respected, the selfish 
despised ; the patient man must have peace, the con- 
tentious be involved in quarrels ; the useful man must 
be sought after, the useless neglected. 

But — gracious Heaven ! how often do we see the 
reverse of all this ! The utmost injustice prevails 
between the actions of men and their circumstances. 
The greatest part of the wealth is in the hands of un- 
worthy owners, to whom it devolved by inheritance, 
p 2 



212 IMMORTALITY, 

and who squander it in the grossest prodigality : while 
thousands upon thousands of honest labourers fre- 
quently in times of dearth have not bread enough to 
satisfy their hunger. Fidelity and integrity have 
rarely the good fortune to find friends ; but falsehood, 
hypocrisy, and flattery meet with them at once. De- 
bauchees of strong constitutions frequently live the 
longest; temperate men are often liable to continual 
illness from hereditary infirmity, and sink prematurely 
into the grave. Ignorant blockheads, if they belong- 
to distinguished families, have patrons, or lend them- 
selves to base purposes, rapidly attain honours, and 
rise from one post to another ; while the ablest m^en 
are continually overlooked, and scarcely dare venture 
at last to solicit the meanest employment. Power is in 
the hands of those who abuse it : impudent coxcombs 
adorn themselves, like the crow in the fable, with the 
feathers of others, and are admired; while genuine 
modest merit remains unacknowledged. The more 
rigid any one is in his principles, the more he is dis- 
liked; while he who agrees with every thing, who 
approves every thing, who lends himself to every thing, 
is a universal favourite. Should, however, the upright 
man so far succeed as to be on the point of grasping 
the reward of his virtue, some bold villain suddenly 
interposes and snatches it from his hand. 

Such is the state of things in this world. Much 
more good passes unrewarded than is rewarded ; much 
more villany passes unpunished than is punished. 
More vicious than virtuous persons are happy ; more 



OR ANNIHILATION. 21S 

virtuous than vicious persons unhappy. The com- 
mon man, when he commits a fault, is chastised ; the 
great escape with impunity or buy themselves off; 
princes do what they please, and think themselves 
above the laws, but punish the subject when he trans- 
gresses like them. The innocent person, who is se- 
duced into guilt, is caught in the first fact and pu- 
nished ; but the adept in wickedness carries it on un- 
der the guise of virtue, and escapes the notice of the 
judges, or makes a mock of the laws. Many seem to 
have a license for every thing ; the worse their con- 
duct the more they thrive ; they live in splendour, 
fare sumptuously, and move in an endless round of 
pleasures. They thrive not only for years together, but 
throughout their whole lives, and in the end enjoy 
the last blessing, the blessing of a sudden death ; so 
that they have nothing to suffer previously, either 
from bodily pain or the reproaches of awakening con- 
science. Others, on the contrary, who are the most 
virtuous of men, and who have never been guilty of 
the slightest violation of their duties, live in poverty, 
despised and persecuted to the very last, sink under 
some lingering disease into the grave, and have no 
other comfort than death, which at last puts an end 
to all their sufferings. 

Still Man is destined to virtue, still justice is ad- 
ministered in the whole sensible world. There must 
therefore be another state, in which rigid justice shall 
take place for the moral world ; there must be a life 
to come, in which a more perfect order of things shall 



214} IMMORTALITY, 

admit of the virtuous receiving the reward which was 
here withheld from him, and the vicious the punish- 
ment which he here found means to escape. la short, 
there must be on the other side of the grave that com- 
plete retribution which did not take place on this. 
And if there were no God, still there must be justice, 
for it follows immediately from the nature of things. — 
Think only of the countless multitudes of innocent men 
who have bled and fallen in battle— is it possible that 
they should go unrewarded for it? Think of those 
who perish by judicial murder — is it possible that they 
should be denied any compensation? How are the 
one to receive this reward, the other this compensa- 
tion, unless, with their death a new life commences for 
them all ? 

This argument is certainly a strong one, but in the 
preceding discussion of it I perceive both light and 
shade. 

At the very outset its foundation is manifestly faulty. 
The position, that the same kind of causes produce 
the same kind of effects, is true only upon condition 
that nothing intervenes to prevent the effect and to he- 
come the cause of a different effect. Every rational 
man therefore keeps his predictions to himself, or 
makes them conditional. In all Nature around us 
there are instances of obstructed, frustrated, perverted 
effects, and the vaunted administration of justice in 
Nature is a mere imagination. My oak wood, for 
example, which last year produced mast sufficient to 
feed thousands of swine, gave promise this year of 



OR ANNIHILATION. 215 

equal abundance, but a prodigious host of chafers fell 
upon it and left not acorns enough to afford a belly- 
ful for a single hog. My peach-trees, which in the 
spring of last year were covered with blossom, and in 
autumn loaded with fruit, blossomed last spring as 
luxuriantly, but the fruit was totally cut off by a late 
frost in the month of May. A thunder-storm gathers 
and rapidly advances towards us ; but at the distance 
of two or three miles it meets with a river which 
draws it aside. Thus it fares in the sensible world around 
us, and thus it fares in sensible things with our- 
selves. If we make a hole in loose sand, the sand im- 
mediately falls in and fills up the hole. If we attempt 
to build in the midst of a swamp we can never get a 
solid foundation. If we throw a ball ever so straight, 
and it encounters something by the way, we miss our 
aim. If we would remove a stone which we had but 
just strength enough to roll along, and some one were 
to sit down upon it, we should not be able to stir it 
from the spot. Let us have cultivated our field with 
ever so much care, the day before the harvest perhaps 
a hail-storm blasts all our hopes. The one sows, but 
reaps not ; another reaps where he has not sown. Un- 
favourable seasons render the best husbandry unpro- 
ductive, and very favourable ones give good crops to 
the worst. If it is thus in the sensible world, how 
should it be otherwise in the moral. Intervening cir- 
cumstances can alter and derange the relation between 
the actions of men and their fortunes, just as they do 
every where else the relation between causes and 



216 IMMORTALITY, 

effects. Virtue goes unrewarded and vice unpunished 
for the same reason that many a one sows and does 
not reap, and many a one reaps where he has not 
sown. Hail destroys the crop. A villain seizes the re- 
ward of virtue. The wind wafts into a garden seed 
that springs up and produces fruit, and a patron pro- 
motes a vagabond and raises him to honours and emo- 
luments. What is done in the one case by wind and 
weather is done by men in the other ; that is all the 
difference : both are intervening things, which obstruct 
the operations of causes and interpose their own in 
their stead. Every thing proceeds naturally and ac- 
cording to the same kind of laws. As it is inherent 
in the nature of things that the same kind of causes, 
when they operate unmolested, produce the same kind 
of effects : so it is inherent in the nature of interven- 
ing things, that the same kind of causes, because they 
do not operate unmolested, produce not the same kind 

of effects. If the foundation of the evidence is so 

faulty, how can the evidence itself be otherwise ? 

Let me read over what I have here written as often 
as I will, it is nevertheless true, that the law of causes 
and effects holds good only on the above-mentioned 
condition. I am therefore compelled to doubt the 
universality of the administration of justice in the 
sensible world, without being led to do so by the 
facetious question, whether there is a law of stones 
and mosses, or an administration of justice for water 
and fire. The same law of causes and effects certain- 
ly applies to stones and mosses, to water and fire. 



OR ANNIHILATION. 217 

upon the above condition. And thus it follows from 
what 1 am now admitting, that intervening circum- 
stances may make the virtuous unhappy and the 
vicious happy. But is it possible that a moral being 
can feel satisfied that things should go so perverse- 
ly in his world as in the sensible world, and that in- 
tervening circumstances should be able to transform, 
according to appearance and result, the noblest actions 
into base, the basest into noble, virtue into vice, vice 
into virtue, right into wrong, and wrong into right ? 
The sense of justice is too deeply implanted in the 
human soul, and developed at the same time with 
the first developement of reason ; it is therefore like 
reason an essential property of Man. The man who 
acts most unjustly is aware of it, and confesses to 
himself that he should act more consistently with 
his nature if he acted justly ; he is only dazzled by 
the lucre of injustice. Nay more, he who to-day 
is capable of committing the most flagrant injustice, 
will to-morrow demand justice if he has suffered the 
least wrong, and complain bitterly if justice is denied 
him; and one unjust man will condemn another. 
What would become of human society were it to be 
forsaken by the sense of justice ? But how can this 
sense be kept up in Man, when Fate itself sets before 
him examples of every species of injustice ? Is not a 
hint thereby given him to take the conduct of Fate as 
a pattern for his conduct ? What an exaction upon 
him, that he should be just, when his destination 
itself is a tissue of injustices perpetrated upon him as 



218 IMMORTALITY, 

by an invisible hand ! If he shall act consistently 
with his moral nature, the issue of his actions must 
also be consistent with his moral nature. His sense 
of justice then guarantees to him justice also for him- 
self. Now if this does not always take place for him 
here, because here it cannot always take place for him, 
and if it is at the same time possible for him to exist 
after death ; must he not, especially if he takes into 
account all the preceding evidences for a future state, 
feel himself inwardly constrained to believe in a life 
after death ? No sooner does he admit this, than his 
moral nature is set at once in perfect harmony with 
his destination. The effects of his actions are not 
then annihilated and lost; they are only suspended 
by intervening circumstances belonging to this v/orld, 
which cease with his death, and then allow free scope 
to those suspended effects. It would indeed be too 
gross a mockery of the vocation of man to virtue, if 
the hypocrite, who had learnt to assume the mask of 
virtue, whilst in his heart he was one of the most de- 
praved of his kind, could even in death laugh at the 
credulous world, and were never to be exposed as the 
disguised villain. Assuredly, whoever means it well 
with virtue must coincide in this opinion. 

Is it not, however, an evident exaggeration, to assert 
that more vicious than virtuous men are happy, and 
more virtuous than vicious men unhappy ? One may 
wrong Fate as well as mankind, and such an assertion 
is in my eyes a real injustice to Fate. No, the state of 
things is not so bad as that, I cannot help thinking 



OR ANNIHILATION. 219 

that this notion either proceeds from spleen, or that 
it can be entertained in such moments only when a 
man is suffering, or imagines that he is suffering, some 
flagrant injustice from Fate. The disposition to think 
that bad which is bad may become a passion, so that 
at last a person may consider every thing as bad. For 
the honour of humanity, however, I believe that all 
other sources of the exaggerated notion of the injus- 
tice of Fate lie in erroneous conceptions alone. These 
I will now seek to detect. 



220 IMMORTALITY, 



TWENTY-FIRST MEDITATION. 

CONTINUATION OF THE PRECEDING ARGUMENT. 

It is indeed a duty which I owe to the world and 
Fate to undertake this task. The erroneous con- 
ceptions lie so exposed that it is an easy matter to 
discover them. In regard to the revolting proposition 
that — " more virtuous than vicious men are unhappy, 
and more vicious than virtuous men happy " — every 
thing depends on the correct determination of the 
meaning attached to the words virtuous and vicious as 
well as happy and unhappy. There is a great differ- 
ence between being really virtuous and really vicious, 
and merely appearing to be so ; and there is as much 
difference between being really happy and really un- 
happy, and merely appearing to be so. 

It is but too obvious that in this whole argument 
regard is had solely to external happiness and unhap- 
piness. I will even admit that external happiness is 
real happiness, and that it belongs by right to the 
virtuous in preference to the vicious ; still the question 
arises, whether we may not err egregiously in our 
estimate of the virtuousness and viciousness of men. 



OR ANNIHILATION. 221 

The Jews of old argued thus : " Whoever is rich, 
whoever is the picture of health, whoever lives long, 
and so forth, is beloved by God. Would He other- 
wise bestow on him wealth, health, long life, &c. ? 
Now he whom God loves must be a righteous man," 
and vice versa. We often draw in a different way 
conclusions that are just as false, and like them con- 
sider men as virtuous who are not virtuous, and others 
as wicked who are not wicked. An imperfect know- 
ledge of mankind in general, the want of a spirit of 
observation and of opportunity to watch a person nar- 
rowly, satisfaction with external appearances, prepos- 
sessions against or in favour of an object, frequently 
cause us to form a totally false opinion of others. 
Many a one can assume a most exemplary appear- 
ance, carefully guard against any public violation of 
civil duties, has virtuous phrases continually in his 
mouth, shines in society with his acquirements, and is 
universally esteemed for his goodness of heart, liber- 
ality and benevolence. When we observe that such a 
man is not externally happy, we talk of the injustice 
of Fate and class him among the unrewarded virtuous. 
If we knew him better, we should not do him so much 
honour. We should then discover in him under his 
virtuous exterior an arrant knave, who, to make 
amends for the restraint imposed on himself in public 
and the care which he takes in society not to offend 
against good manners, gives a loose to his passions 
when alone and not exposed to observation ; who 
chuckles, when he has prepossessed his fellow-citizens 
in his favour by fine sounding words ; who knows how 



222 IMMORTALITY, 

to show off to the best advantage the little that he has 
learned ; and who even keeps people in his pay to trum- 
pet forth every good action, however trifling, that he 
performs. In short, we should then, instead of regard- 
ing him as unrewarded, say that he had much more 
than he deserved. 

Many a one in like manner appears worse than he 
actually is. He is inattentive to what custom re- 
quires, or has not the talent of communicating what 
he knows, or seeks not to shine in public, or cares 
not to conceal any little foibles that he has, or at one 
time of his life has committed some indiscretion which 
others make it a point to bring forward on every occa- 
sion. When we see this man externally happy, we 
accuse Fate of partiality, and number him among the 
unpunished vicious. A more intimate acquaintance 
with his person and his peculiar sentiments would 
make us blush for our opinion. We should then see 
that he had already made ten-fold atonement for the 
indiscretion which he had committed ; that with 
one human failing he had many excellent qualities ; 
that he made amends for the neglect of trivial ob- 
servances by the rigid performance of real duties ; or 
that he did good in secret without proclaiming his 
virtuous actions. In short, we should then, instead 
of numbering him among the unpunished vicious and 
the rewarded unworthy, assert on the contrary that 
he justly deserved all that Fate had bestowed upon 
him. 

If we could thus form our opinion of every one 



OR ANNIHILATION. )i'26 

agreeably to the truth, we should certainly entertain 
more favourable notions of the justice of Fate. But 
how often is it the case, that we do not know our- 
selves, to say nothing of others ? As there are hypo- 
chondriacs who charge themselves with all sorts of 
sins, not one of which they have committed, so there 
are pretended saints, who are grievous sinners, who 
merely give their vices softer names, and are never at 
a loss for pretexts to palliate every new commission 
of them. Lay your hands upon your hearts, ye ac- 
cusers of Fate, and how many of you who now deem 
yourselves martyrs would be obliged to exclaim, *' I 
fare as I deserve !" In regard to our fellow-men, we 
but too often regulate our opinion of them by the 
opinion of others. Every man, however, has his 
friends and his enemies, who from prejudice and pas- 
sion represent him sometimes better, at others worse, 
than he really is. In short it is obvious that integrity 
is the way by which Man is most sure of attaining 
happiness. The best man moreover is frequently 
deficient in the requisite prudence, and thereby de- 
prives himself of all the benefit of his virtue ; whereas 
the vicious often contrive by means of this prudence 
to compensate for the want of integrity. Now we 
ought not merely to be virtuous, but also prudent. 
Many excellent men carry their hearts upon their 
tongues, and themselves betray their intentions and 
their plans, whence these are invariably frustrated, 
and others reap where they have sown ; many are not 
capable of duly appreciating time and place ; and thus 



224 IMMORTALITY, 

ruin every thing ; many pass their opinions on others 
unasked and too loudly, and thereby make the most 
inveterate enemies for life ; many in their ardour for 
virtue are too violent, too impetuous, and thus revolt 
the multitude ; many are over-delicate and would not 
think of soliciting or accepting any one's good offices ; 
or they cannot condescend to yield even in appear- 
ance to a more powerful opponent. Does not expe- 
rience prove the truth of all this ? Ye who will not 
admit it, at least take it not amiss if I defend Fate 
against you. Either you are just entering the World 
and have not had opportunities of judging; or if you 
have been long in it, ye must have shut your eyes 
to what others see, and your opinion cannot have any 
weight with us. 

As, in the assertion, that more virtuous men are 
unhappy than happy, and more vicious men happy 
than unhappy, the words virtuous and vicious required 
to be corrected, so do the terms happy and unhappy. 
Admitting for once that external goods constitute the 
happiness of life, must they be in great profusion 
where they are to confer happiness ? Must they all 
be there together ? I should think that a competence 
would be a reward for virtue ; must there absolutely 
be superfluity? Of what benefit is the latter? Is it 
not rather frequently injurious to the possessor? Is it 
not liable in particular to prove detrimental to his vir- 
tue, and have we not instances enough of men who 
were originally virtuous becoming wicked as soon as 
they attained great wealth, honour, and power ? In like 



OR ANNIHILATION. %%ii 

manner I should think that om good compensates for 
the want of another, if a man is but grateful to Fate. 
We should take what is given us, without grumbling 
because it is not precisely what we could wish for ; 
we should learn duly to appreciate its value ; we should 
enjoy it and seek to enhance more and more to our- 
selves the possession and enjoyment of it. 

We certainly consider many virtuous men as un- 
happy who are not so. We pity many a one because 
he is not more noticed, more promoted, while he at 
the same time is so content in his obscurity, that he 
has no wish to act a conspicuous part in the world. 
We lament that many a man is not possessed of a 
large fortune, which he deserves in preference to 
others ; and he wants none of our commiseration, 
for he has enough for himself and his family, and is 
satisfied with it. We feel for many a one because 
he cannot appear in every brilliant circle^ and he 
smiles at the routs and balls and assemblies of the 
great world, in the bosom of his home and the 
society of a few friends, who love him as their own 
soul. The honest labourer finds in his robust health 
more enjoyment than he would derive from house and 
lands ; and many a roof of thatch covers a family 
which the world deems miserable, but which through 
love is supremely happy. 

In like manner we certainly consider many vicious 
men as happier than they are in their own eyes. 
There sits the rich but solitary villain and has no en- 
joyment of his .wealth. Either he is sometimes cheated 
Q 



^2Q IMMORTALITY, 

notwithstanding' all his caution, and is ready to hang 
himself in despair ; or he trembles at every coming 
night, lest he should be haunted by uninvited visitors ; 
or he suffers under some painful disease, in the pa- 
roxysms of which he would gladly give his whole for- 
tune to be relieved from it. What poor but healthy man 
would change situations with him ? The most mag- 
nificent palaces are often beautiful only without ; on 
entering you find nothing but splendid misery. Jea- 
lousy, discord, intrigue, hatred, nay even murder, 
reign within. Husband and wife live apart from each 
other; sons and daughters prove degenerate. What 
happy husband, what happy father, of the lowest 
class, would exchange his little peaceful cot for such a 
deceitful palace ? In truth it is not all gold that glit- 
ters, neither is it written upon the brow of every one 
who is accounted happy, by what secret affliction he 
is oppressed. The prudent man conceals his sufferings 
from the world. 

Taking all this together, is it not a truth as clear 
as the noon-day sun, that the assertion concerning 
so many unrewarded and unhappy virtuous men, 
and so many unpunished and happy vicious men, is a 
gross exaggeration "? When we add to this, that the 
notion of happiness is evidently too narrow, if we 
understand by it mere external happiness ; that the 
internal also belongs to it, and that this is properly 
speaking, the true happiness of men; the govern- 
ment of Fate is still more justified. Men cannot 
wean themselves from the habit of attaching to the 



OR ANNIHILATION 



227 



word happiness — the idea of wealth, distinction, 
power, '&c. ; and they ought, out of respect to them- 
selves, to learn to think otherwise. Does not Man 
throw himself away when he allows the world out 
of himself and its perishable goods to have the 
power of making him happy ? Ought he not to 
insist firmly that nothing can make him happy but 
his own heart ? 

Now this inward happiness, which is the most es- 
sential, cannot be attained by any vicious man ; it is 
the exclusive property of Virtue and her votaries. To 
external happiness there are certainly many crooked, 
many illicit ways, that Vice can pursue ; but the way of 
Virtue to it is the straight-forward and more honourable 
one. To inward happiness on the other hand there is 
but a single way, and this it is that Virtue points out. 
Is not this pre-eminence enough for the virtuous ? Is 
not this the most signal justice that is administered ? 
In this way not one virtuous individual goes unre- 
warded ; genuine, inward happiness is conferred on 
each ; and not one vicious individual escapes unpu- 
nished : to him alone is genuine happiness denied. 
Self-satisfaction, the silent approbation of a man's 
own heart, the consciousness of his worth, his good- 
ness, and his usefulness, indemnify him for the want 
of external goods ; and he who has the latter, with- 
out having at the same time a good conscience, 
has no more than nothing. Ye poor, ye despised, 
ye who are shut out from the pleasures of the 
world, wish not to be able to change with the 

Q 2 



~^8 IMMORTALITY, 

Croesus who rolls along in yon splendid equipage 
to the brilliant ball ! At his heart gnaws the worm 
that never dies ; in his bosom burns the fire that is 
never quenched. 

All this is true : still it proves only that Fate is not 
the author of so much injustice upon earth as is com- 
plained of; but by no means that complete justice, 
justice such as it ought to hcy is administered by Fate. 
The distinction between the really and the reputed 
virtuous and vicious may be perfectly correct; but 
still many really virtuous go unrewarded, and many 
really vicious unpiinished. It may be alleged that 
they have their internal reward and internal punish- 
ment; but it has been already observed, that great 
external misery disturbs even the enjoyment of inter- 
nal happiness. Man would not be man were this not 
the case. The continuance of violent bodily pain, for 
example, must dishearten and deject, let the virtuous 
sufferer be ever so conscious of his worth : under the 
pressure of extreme poverty, or when obliged to flee 
from furious persecutors, the best of men, on putting 
to himself the question— Why hath this befallen me ? 
must feel profound melancholy ! and he who is always 
misjudged, despised, thrust back, begins at length 
himself to doubt his own worth. It is equally true, 
on the other hand, that there are externally happy 
vicious men whom internal misery does not make 
unhappy. There are knaves and bloodsuckers, who 
have amassed wealth by means of a long series of 
inhumanities, and who have never felt any worm 



OR ANNIHILATION. 229 

gnawing at their hearts. There are voluptuaries, who 
rejoice that the fire in their bosoms is not quenched, 
because they thus have still ardours to cool ; for in 
this consists their chief delight. Is it then enough to 
put off the virtuous with merely internal happiness, in 
case he could really enjoy it unmolested ? Shall the 
unworthy and the wicked alone revel in pleasures here 
upon earth ? Who has a better right to them than 
the virtuous man, who is incessantly promoting the 
welfare of others ? Does not his heart also beat for 
the pleasures of sense ? Must it not cut him to the 
soul to see that it is precisely his virtue by which he 
is deprived of them ? 

I perceive then but too clearly that, notwithstanding 
all that can be advanced in justification of Fate, the 
evidence from its defective administration of justice 
maintains its rank among the evidences of a future 
life. There must be justice in the moral world, or the 
whole moral world would be a monstrosity. Here it 
is not as it ought to be : there must therefore come 
a state in which it shall be what it ought to be. I 
mean not to say, that the virtuous shall there enjoy 
the external happiness which they had not here ; there 
must, however, be in the next world sufficient exter- 
nal happiness, and this the good man must possess in 
the same measure in which he was here deficient in 
it, and pre-eminently there above the wicked, who 
enjoyed more of it here than he. And this his perfect 
external happiness must once enable the good man to 
enjoy his inward happiness without molestation ; and 



tSO IMMORTALITY, 

the want of external happiness there must cause the 
wicked to feel there in its full extent their internal 
unhappiness, of which they had no feeling whatever 
here. If this is the case, it is so because the vicious 
man received here so large a portion of terrestrial goods ; 
he received however the less valuable share, and some- 
thing he must receive, that justice may be exercised 
towards him also, because even the very worst of men 
still does some good which must also in the end be re- 
7varded, 

When I come at length to the consideration of the 
thousands on whom ^wwzaw justice has committed mur- 
der, and on the hundreds of hundreds of thousands 
who for so long a series of ages have fallen in battle 
O yes! exclaims my heart, there must be an ex- 
istence after death ! It would be in truth a horrible 
idea, an idea that would be sufficient to stifle and to 
annihilate the moral sense in the whole human race, 
if these were doomed by Fate to suffer and die, 
without ever receiving from Fate any compensation 
and reward ! To the other martyrs in Nature, which 
as inanimate or irrational beings are sacrificed for the 
whole, we cannot, as has been previously observed, 
on this point appeal : it is a totally different case 
with rational beings, who know as martyrs that they 
are martyrs. These must know that they shall receive 
compensation for their martyrdom ; or they would be 
fools, in the strongest sense of the word, if they suf- 
fered themselves to be sacrificed. The very knowledge 
of their martyrdom would serve them for an intimation, 



OR ANNIHILATION. 231 

of which inanimate and irrational beings are not sus- 
ceptible, to save themselves from it by all the means 
in their power. 

I conclude this meditation with joy, and can affirm 
from the very bottom of my soul, that it has ex- 
ceedingly strengthened me in my hopes of a future 
life. 



2S2 IMMORTALITY, 



TWENTY-SECOND MEDITATION. 

EIGHTH ARGUMENT IN BEHALF OF A FUTURE 
STATE. 

I NOW come to the last argument for a future state. 
With a mind strongly disposed to joy I proceed to its 
discussion ; but still I will be upon my guard lest my 
heart might perhaps at last mislead me. 

Man is the final end of the whole terrestrial world; 
as such he need not fear annihilation, had he even to 
suffer a thousand deaths. 

The first question which here occurs and which 1 
must answer is this : — Does not the admission of ends 
involve the idea of a rational being, by whom those 
ends were planned — and consequently does not this 
argument involve the idea of a Go<i? — If this is the 
case, I must lay aside the whole argument, for the 
idea of a God shall not enter, at least not yet, into 
this first series of my meditations. Let me consider 
this point. 

Every thing around me in Nature is in motion ; all 
powers are at work. One operation is succeeded by 



OR ANNIHILATION. )^6'S 

cinother, this again by another, and so on. At length, 
after many operations a complete something is pro- 
duced. This something would not be produced, had 
not the operations previously taken place, and each of 
these operations could not have taken place, had not 
the preceding taken place. .Is it then one and the 
same thing if I say — the second operation could not 
have taken place unless the first, nor the third unless 
the two preceding had taken place ; and the complete 
something could not have been produced unless all 
these operations had preceded — or if I say — the first 
operation took place that the second might follow, the 
second that the third might follow, and so on ; and all 
these operations took place that the complete some- 
thing which we here see might be produced ? Is it 
not one and the same thing if I say, the first opera- 
tion generated the second, the second the third, and 
so on ; and all these operations together at length 
generated the complete something — or if I say — the 
end or aim of the first operation was the second, the 
end of the second, the third, and so on, and the end 
of all these operations, the end of all these ends, the 
grand end, the final end, was the complete something 
produced ? Am I not the more justified in using the 
latter mode of expression, when I see the same oper- 
ations succeed each other thousands of times in the 
same manner, and discover in the end invariably the 
same result ? I can therefore speak of ends, of final 
ends of all the powers operating around me, and of 
all the arrangements which are found in Nature, 



234t IMMORTALITY, 

without incurring a just suspicion that I merely carry 
the idea of an end into Nature. I can speak of 
Nature without being absolutely obliged to ientertain 
the notion of a rational being, or even of a Supreme 
Being, which devised, planned and maintains these 
ends. And thus the argument concerning Man, as 
the final end of the whole terrestrial world, certainly 
belongs to the series of my present meditations. 

But must not every one who would proceed soberly 
and safely admit that the ends of Nature are far from 
lying exposed to our view ; that for this reason obser- 
vers in all ages have drawn numberless false conclu- 
sions, which others have attempted to rectify ; that 
their corrections again have been rectified by a third 
set ; and that there is nothing in regard to which men 
are so much in the dark, as the doctrine of the final 
ends of the things and arrangements about them ? 
How then can we possibly pretend to judge of the 
final end of a whole planet^ and of every thing that is 
passing in it ? In such limited beings as we are is 
not this the height of presumption ? Is it not most 
absurd when at last the presumptuous mortal, who 
takes it upon him to determine the final end of the 
whole terrestrial world, sets himself up as this final 
end ? 

Who will deny that we are yet ignorant of the par- 
ticular ends of numberless arrangements in Nature? 
Does it thence follow that we cannot assign the end 
of any of them with certainty ? When we have num- 
berless times observed that certain provisions of Na~ 



OR ANNIHILATION. 235 

ture always follow each other in the same invariable 
order, and that they always produce the same ulti- 
mate result ; must we not be able to say with tho- 
rough conviction that this or that is the end of such 
or such provisions ? The grain of wheat, for instance, 
has a germ, which is developed into a shoot when it is 
deposited in the moist ground ; the shoot produces a 
stalk, the stalk an ear, the ear blossom, the blossom 
grains like the original one ; we can say with a truth 
which nothing can overthrow, that the end of the 
germ in a grain of wheat is the shoot ; the end of the 
shoot the stalk ; the end of the stalk the ear ; the end 
of the ear blossom ; and the end of the blossom new 
grains of wheat, consequently the final end of the 
germ in the grain of wheat is to produce many more 
grains like itself. 

If in many thousand other cases we are incapable 
of assigning the ends of Nature with such precision, 
that is of no consequence. We are told, for example, 
that every phenomenon is already sufficiently founded 
on its natural cause; why then should you call in 
the aid of final ends into the bargain ? — It is you 
who thus speak that call in their aid. If the phe- 
nomenon is founded on its natural cause, you say in 
admitting this that the former is the end of the latter. 
But why shall not something which follows be founded 
on that appearance, or why shall it not have its end ? 
Come my friend and investigate this matter with me ! 
Therein consists the ever-progressive increase in know- 
ledge to which Man is destined, that he penetrates 



236 IMMORTALITY, 

more and more into the ends of Nature in her ar- 
rangements. It is precisely this process which leads 
to perfect knowledge, that at first totally false con- 
clusions are drawn respecting this or that end of 
Nature ; that after the lapse of a century the fallacy 
of these conclusions is corrected ; and after another 
century these corrections again are corrected, and so 
on. The right point every where must at length be 
discovered, and we men are capable of seeking it ; 
we must therefore seek it. It thence follows also that 
we cannot yet discover the ends of certain particular 
arrangements of Nature, but by no means that it 
is the height of human presumption to pretend to 
assign the final end of all the arrangements of Na- 
ture and of the whole terrestrial world. Should Man 
discover this final end precisely in himself, because 
he is obliged to discover it in himself alone — what 
then? — If it is but the truth, why should the ac- 
knowledgment of the truth be attributed to insuffer- 
able vanity ? He might as well be charged with va- 
nity if he discovered that he is the only one of all 
the terrestrial beings which enquires and is capable 
of seeking the end in the arrangements of Nature. 

But must there be precisely a Jinal end to all the 
arrangements of Nature and to the whole terrestrial 
world ? May not the whole notion of such a thing be 
purely imaginary ? May it not be the case that we 
transfer it by an analogical conclusion from ourselves 
to Nature, and from our mode of proceeding to 
hers. 



OR ANNIHILATION. 237 

What! can it be that a whole stupendous series 
of ends, one of which invariably produces the next, 
should not at length combine to one general end ? — 
that in this prodigious circle there should not be a 
centre to which all the radii converge ? Can it be that 
Man should have a final end in all his proceedings — 
his happiness — and that the proceedings of Nature, 
which infinitely surpass his in point of perfect adap- 
tation, should have no final end ? 

" Well, then every thing which is produced, the 
final end for which it is produced, nay even all the 
intermediate ends, would tend to the completion of 
his being ; and when his being is completed, the final 
end is attained — it is happy. The utmost possible mul- 
tiplicity of all species of beings was destined to exist ; 
the utmost possible multiplicity of all sorts of happi- 
ness was destined to be enjoyed. Whoever then is not 
satisfied with assuming that the final end of each par- 
ticular being is its individual happiness , let him take 
this as the final end of all. Each being in fact exists 
for itself. If it afterwards seems to exist for others 
also, this is an accidental circumstance, a mere ex- 
ception, an abuse." 

Here one absurdity seems to tread on the heels of 
another. What ! every being exist for itself ! In this 
case every being would be a world in itself. Now, a 
world consists of innumerable beings, which, precisely 
because they exist for each other, compose a world. 
It is manifestly false too that every being exists for 
itself. How do the stones exist for themselves ? how- 



.^38 IMMORTALITY, 

the plants ? Is it possible to attach any rational idea 
to this assumption? A being which, we are told, ex- 
ists for itself must at least have sensation, or its ex- 
istence for itself is an idea without meaning. What 
sort of happiness could the flint or the rock, the cab- 
bage or the oak enjoy, that these should be the final 
end to themselves, and that these individual incon- 
ceivable ends should ultimately contribute to produce 
the final end of the whole terrestrial world, the utmost 
possible multiplicity of all sorts of happiness ? And 
if things exist at the same time for others, can it be 
that this circumstance is purely accidental, that it is 
a mere exception, an abuse ? Upon what then should 
numberless species of animals live and be happy, if 
they had not the vegetable world? how, in like man- 
ner, should numberless species of animals subsist, if 
they were not to prey upon other species ? If now 
the former cannot possibly subsist without plants, 
and the latter without smaller, weaker and less sa- 
gacious animals — and they must certainly be des- 
tined to subsist — is it by way of abuse that they 
derive from them their means of subsistence ? Are 
they not rather expressly directed to them by in- 
stinct ? And what else is this but saying — those things 
exist for them 1 

" Be it so ! — let one exist for the other ! The final 
ends of individual things cross one another then, 
without combining any where to a general final end. 
Here a centre is totally out of the question ; it is 



OR ANNIHILATION. 239 

an incessant whirl, concerning which none can tell 
where it begins or where it ends." 

1 am myself of opinion that, in the first place, every 
sentient being exists for itself, but in the next that all 
sentient, like all insensible, beings exist at the same 
time for other beings. But — would not the perfection 
of the constitution of the terrestrial world attain its 
highest pitch, if there were in the end a species of 
being for which every thing existed in mass, after pre- 
viously existing solely for others, or first for itself and 
then for others ; and to the happiness of which every 
thing was obliged to contribute mediately and im- 
mediately? And is not this at the very first glance 
Man? 

" This, Man! — Has not Nature made the most 
tremendous arrangements against him, nay manifestly 
for his destruction ? Witness earthquake and pesti- 
lence. And then, how many beings are evidently 
injurious to Man ! How many poisonous plants in the 
vegetable kingdom ! How many venomous creatures 
in the animal ! Instead of assuming that every thing 
else converges to a centre in order to the benefit of 
Man, we might rather assert that every thing concurs 
in this centre to accomplish his ruin ; for there is 
nothing, absolutely nothing, but what is capable of 
being the occasion of his death." 

Terrible as this certainly sounds, it may neverthe- 
less be answered in the most satisfactory manner. 
Earthquake, pestilence, and the like, are not provi- 



,?40 IMMORTALITY, 

sions of Nature for the destruction of Man, but only 
incidents that must of necessity arise out of the most 
benevolent arrangements made in behalf of Man. 
Were Man to be exempt from those incidents, the 
benevolent arrangements in question could not take 
place. These however were made for the benefit of 
the whole human race ; but it is only a portion of 
mankind which suffers from those incidents. There 
would certainly be no earthquakes if the interior of 
the earth were not so constituted as it is ; but if it 
were not constituted as it is the earth could not be in- 
habited by men. In like manner, there would certainly 
be no pestilence if there were no sun ; but what 
would become of men without that luminary? Let 
us not hear then of tremendous arrangements adopted 
by Nature for the destruction of Man ; but let us ra- 
ther be told of the most beneficent arrangements of 
Nature in behalf of our whole species, whence after- 
wards, as a matter of unavoidable necessity, arise in- 
cidents injurious to certain portions of mankind. 

As to the beings which are pernicious to Man, it 
only requires a little closer reflection on the subject 
to enable us to form a more correct opinion. The 
ends for which poisons are diffused throughout all 
Nature certainly belong to that section of the treatise 
on the ends of Nature in which men are not yet suffi- 
ciently versed ; but still we know enough to make us 
perfectly easy on that point. Nature herself has pro- 
vided antidotes. Among the poisonous plants there 
are many which may easily be divested of their poi- 



OR ANNIHILATION. 241 

son and converted into v/holesome food for men. 
Others serve for food to animals, which are eaten 
without injury by Man, or are devoured by other ani- 
mals, of which again Man avails himself without de- 
triment for his table. Poison, after it has passed 
through several transformations, ceases to be poison for 
Man. When Man once knows that it is poison, he can 
employ it for the purpose of destroying pernicious ani- 
mals. There can be no doubt, also, that we derive from 
venomous animals much greater benefi t than we imagine. 
Perhaps they are placed around us, in order that, by 
secreting from the atmosphere the poison which we 
must otherwise inhale, they may act in the first place 
as conductors for diverting poisons from us, and in the 
next as innocent receptacles for them. Besides, what 
manifold benefits do we not receive from poisons, if 
we only take care not to introduce them into the nose 
or mouth ! Does then all the advantage which things 
have for us consist merely in their fitness for being 
eaten or drunk ? Ask the merchant, the artist, the 
colourman, if you would obtain a satisfactory answer 
to this question ! Lastly, as to the position that every 
thing about Man strives and unites to destroy him, 
and that there is nothing but what is capable of caus- 
ing his death ; I readily admit that nothing can be 
thought of which has not caused the death of some 
man or other : but Man has been furnished with rea- 
son that he may avoid such causes of death, and if he 
duly cultivates and applies it, nothing, nothing what- 
ever, can destroy him but his own perishable nature ; 
II 



242 IMMORTALITY, 

and there is no other venomous tooth for him but the 
tooth of Time, which, indeed, in the end destroys every 
thing. 

Methinks I hear some one exclaim — " Man, I sup- 
pose, will by and by have the presumption to assert 
that the sun, moon, and stars, exist for him too ! His 
boast, that he is the final end of the whole terrestrial 
world is nevertheless founded only on the dominion 
over all things which he has contrived to usurp, and 
on the arbitrary power which he every where exercises. 
Has he not asserted that the birds sing for him, while 
it is evident that they sing for their mates ? Has he 
not pretended that the flowers of the fields blossom 
for him, though every one sees that the bee first col- 
lects honey from them, and that they are afterwards 
eaten by the ox." 

Granted that the bee collects honey from the flowers 
of the fields, and that they are eaten by the ox ; yet 
the bee collects the honey for us, and for us the ox 
feeds upon them till he is fat and fleshy ; and as mere 
receptacles of honey and food for cattle the flowers of 
the fields need not be adorned with the beauty which 
they display. Granted, that the nightingale and every 
other male bird sing for their mates, to relieve the 
tedium of the brooding season ; still Man, endowed 
with reason, can alone judge of the greater or less ex- 
cellence of their song. And if the earth were the only 
planet lighted by the sun, Man, for whom the whole 
terrestrial world exists, would be authorised to assert 
that he was also the final end of the sun's light. As 



OR ANNIHILATION. 243 

to the authority which Man exercises over all things, 
this authority, so long as he exercises it humanely, 
that is to say, tortures nothing unnecessarily, and 
destroys nothing for the sake of destroying, is an 
evidence that all things else ultimately exist for him. 
How can such an authority be considered as something 
which he abusively possesses and wrongfully usurps ? 
Is it not an immediate consequence of his higher na- 
ture, of his reason ? If the stone does not grow abu- 
sively ; if the plant does not abusively derive its nou- 
rishment from the earth and air ; if one animal does 
not prey upon another abusively ; it is impossible to 
discover how Man should act abusively, if he really 
turns to his advantage every thing that he can turn 
to his advantage. Whoever can do this has also the 
vocation to do it, and commits no abuse if he does it. 
If, then, Man can turn the whole terrestrial world to 
his advantage, the whole terrestrial world exists for 
him ; and if the whole terrestrial world exists for him, 
he must be the final end of the whole terrestrial 
world. 

But there is another consideration which places this 
position beyond all doubt, and which I will discuss on 
my favourite eminence. 



li 2 



244 IMMORTALITY, 



TWENTY-THIRD MEDITATION. 

CONTINUATION OF THE PRECEDING ARGUMENT. 

Oh how delicious is it to-day here upon this emi- 
nence I What a view over the widely extended coun- 
try, with its corn-fields and meadows, its hills and 
dales, its brooks and rivers, enwreathed by the beauti- 
ful blue wooded mountains that bound the horizon ! 
And if even every thing which there exists, existed 
first for its own sake, and then for the mutual benefit 
of itself and other things, for whose benefit does the 
prospect of the whole exist ? O lovely Nature ! to 
no purpose wouldst thou display such e?:quisite beauty 
if Man did not exist to admire thy charms. Admit- 
ting even that every thing which exists, exists for its 
own sake, yet nothing is beautiful for its own sake 
alone. Admitting that every thing which exists, ex- 
ists for the mutual benefit of itself and other things ; 
yet every thing is beautiful solely and exclusively for 
Man. The final end of the beautiful in the whole ter- 
restrial world is evidently Man. What besides him 
possesses susceptibility for it ? 



OR ANNIHILATION. 24)5 

Neither is it enough that the utmost possible multi- 
plicity of all kinds of beings should exist upon the 
earth, or that the utmost possible quantity of happi- 
ness of every kind should be there enjoyed : all the 
beings upon it know not that they exist in the utmost 
possible variety of species ; all the happy beings upon 
it know not that the utmost possible quantity of hap- 
piness of every kind is there enjoyed. The know- 
ledge of this is peculiar to Man alone, and thus all 
these beneficent arrangements of Nature concur in the 
provision made to enable him to derive from the plea- 
sures enjoyed by all a totally distinct pleasure — the 
pleasure of seeing every thing joyous around him. To 
such a degree is Man the final end of Nature ! 

By the general survey of the beautiful whole Man 
is instigated to analyse its beauty, to examine indivi- 
dual parts, to investigate their mutual connexion and 
their relations to each other and to the whole; and 
with what astonishment is he then filled by the glory 
of Nature ! Hitherto he was fascinated only by her 
sensible beauty, and had at most an obscure feeling of 
her order and perfection ; he penetrates deeper and 
deeper into this order and perfection itself, and the 
more he does so the more he is transported by the 
grandeur, the sublimity, and the fitness of Nature. 
This was the last thing that was destined to take 
place on each star, and, as it were, to crown the whole, 
that on each star there should exist a species of 
beings which should admire it with a profound sense 
of the grandeur of all the arrangements connected 



246 IMMORTALITY, 

with it. This species of beings is thereby placed at 
the head of all the other numberless species upon 
it and is its final end. The only such being on 
the earth is Man. There has not yet been disco- 
vered, nor will there ever be discovered, any other 
being which shares with him either the sense of 
beauty in general, or of moral beauty in particu- 
lar. Man, therefore, must be the final end of the 
whole terrestrial world. He, ivJio alone is capable 
of seeking and discovering the end of the beings and 
the arrangements upon earth — he must himself be 
the chief end of the earth. What other end of all 
the order, perfection, and beauty of the terrestrial 
world can be conceived than this -.—that when the 
utmost possible happiness of all possible kinds of 
beings has been thereby accomplished, a superior kind 
of beings, a kind of spirits, should, by the contempla- 
tion of this order, perfection and beauty, be trained 
to wisdom and virtue ? Surely, surely, the wise and 
good man, who first admires the vast arrangements of 
Nature, who then imitates them on a smaller scale, 
and forms for himself upon their model a little world of- 
his orvn in the midst of the great world — must be the 
final end of the earth, and of all the arrangements and 
beings upon it ! , 

Does it, however, thence follow that Man need not 
fear annihilation, had he even to suffer a thousand 
deaths ? On this point every thing depends, and 
therefore I will direct to it my whole attention. 

Of the perishable nature and the real decay of all 



OR ANNIHILATION. 247 

Other things around us we are speedily convinced. As 
they are merely subordinate ends, we consider them 
only as means that are to promote the attainment of 
the grand end — the training of Man to wisdom and vir- 
tue. Now all means pass away as soon as they have 
answered their purposes, and others are brought forward 
in their stead. Thus the human body itself is the 
mean of means for collecting wisdom and virtue from 
the contemplation of the terrestrial world ; and thus 
we are even tranquillized respecting the perishable 
nature and decay of the body, and find in this nothing 
contradictory, as soon as we know that death is only a 
change of body. Were, however, the perishable nature 
of Man to extend still farther, were the spirit of the 
man who has become wise and virtuous to cease to 
exist in death — for what purpose would all the inex- 
pressibly grand, admirable, and astonishing arrange- 
ments for training him to wisdom and virtue have been 
made in Nature ? For what purpose indeed would the 
earth itself exist ? Is it reasonable to believe that 
after all the bustle which has been so long going for- 
ward upon it, a whole planet exists /or nothing^ And 
is not this the case if its principal end is lost ? 

But how can it be said that the principal end of the 
earth is lost, if Man has in fact become wise and vir- 
tuous upon it ? Was it not for this end that all the 
grand and admirable arrangem.ents of the terrestrial 
world were designed ? If this takes place, its princi- 
pal object is attained. What more can be desired ? 

To this I might in the first place reply, as it has 



248 IMMORTALITY, 

already been fully stated, that but few persons ad- 
vance so far as to become wise and good. With re- 
gard to all the rest the principal end of the earth is, 
strictly speaking, lost and remains unattained. An& 
again, if it is true that not a single individual becomes 
so wise and so virtuous as he could have become, had 
he lived longer ; then the principal end of the earth 
is lost with the whole human race. — Supposing, how- 
ever, that not only an individual here and there, but 
the whole human race, trained itself up to wisdom and 
virtue ; supposing that all men became as wise and 
virtuous as they are capable of being ; for what pur- 
pose should all men become as wise and as virtuous 
as possible, if death were annihilation for them ? To 
this question let the first philosophers of all ages re- 
ply ; I am curious to hear their answer. 

The principal end of a whole planet must be some- 
thing permanent, something everlasting and imperish- 
able ; or it is impossible to conceive for what purpose 
it was designed to be attained. If, then, no higher 
end of the earth than the wise and virtuous man is 
conceivable, how preposterous is the inference : Man 
has here become wise and good and through wisdom 
and virtue happy ; consequently the principal end of 
the earth is attained ? For what purpose is he be- 
come so, if he is not to be so hereafter ? If Man agam 
becomes in death what he was before his existence, 
that is to say, nothing — he had better been left in his 
nonentity. Wherefore should he have made the round 
from nothing to riothing ? — Answer — For nothing, ahsO' 



OR ANNIHILATION. 249 

lutely nothing I O the intolerable answer ! Can any 
thing be more at variance with reason ? The more I 
think of it the more revolting it is. Thus, then, every 
thing would be a merely transient appearance, and 
the life of Man and the terrestrial world, with all its 
arrangements, no better than passing shadows upon 
the wall. 

But a new idea occurs to me. It is not individual 
men, but the whole human race, all mankind, that are 
the principal end of the earth : — does the human race 
become extinct ? On the contrary, does it not in 
reality become from time to time wiser and better ? 
How can it be asserted that by the annihilation of 
Man in death the chief end of the earth is lost ? It 
would only be lost hy the extinction of the human race 
itself. As it is, this end is gradually more and more 
attained. Each succeeding generation can take the 
wisdom and virtue bequeathed to it by its predecessors 
for a foundation and continue building upon it ; its 
successors may do the same, and so on to all eternity. 

Even this representation of the matter carries with 
it nothing cheering for me. At this rate there m.ust at 
length come a generation, which had arrived at the 
highest point of all earthly wisdom and of all earthly 
virtue. Thenceforward it would remain stationary. 
Now this would be either the last generation or not. If 
it were the last, it would be subject to death like all 
the preceding generations. What should exempt it 
from the general law of death ? But for what purpose 
should there still be arrangements on earth for man- 



^50 IMMORTALITY, 

kind, when mankind should have become extinct ? Is 
the earth itself also destined to perish along with the 
human race ? For what end has the earth existed ? 
But if the generation which has arrived at the highest 
point of all earthly wisdom and of all earthly virtue is 
not the last, what are the succeeding generations to 
do? Surely not stand still at that point? Go they 
must. Forward they cannot go any longer ; conse- 
quently — backward ! Oh deplorable destination of 
mankind ! So then it is to advance through a thou- 
sand generations to the highest point of human per- 
fectibility, and when this is attained to retrograde 
through a thousand generations more to the brutal 
state, merely to pursue the same course over again, 
forward and backward, and that to all eternity ! And 
for whose pleasure would such a spectacle be ex- 
hibited ? 

For that of God, do you suppose ? The idea of 
Him shall not yet mingle with my meditations. But 
I should think that an all-wise being would have 
quite enough of human doings on earth, after he had 
witnessed them only once. 

Neither is the representation relative to the bequest 
of human wisdom and virtue by any means correct. 
The notion of the incessant advance of mankind in 
knowledge and virtue is confuted by the whole history 
of the world. Not only have particular arts and 
sciences been actually lost, but mankind has certainly 
been often as far, nay, farther advanced than at many 
subsequent periods. Humanity and intellectual cul- 



OR ANNIHILATION. 251 

tivation travel from country to country, and religion 
itself travels along with them. Nay, there have been 
universal convulsions and devastations of the earth, 
which have at once destroyed the living sages and 
the books of the dead, and deprived the small sur- 
viving remnant of mankind of all the wisdom of all 
preceding generations. Again, who is there but knows 
the pernicious influence of war on human morality ? 
A single general war has carried the whole more 
polished portion of mankind farther back in virtue 
than it is possible to express. Wars must cease 
before an incessant advance of mankind in virtue 
can be thought of; but when will wars cease? Earth- 
quakes must cease before the everlasting progress 
of mankind in virtue will be any thing more than 
a pleasing dream ; but earthquakes will never cease. 
A species of beings that is liable to such political 
convulsions can never arrive at the highest moral 
perfection. A planet that is liable to such convulsions 
of nature can never be the abode of beings perfectly 
wise. Mankind sometimes rises, at others sinks ; 
sometimes it advances, at others retrogrades. If then 
the cultivation of mankind in general, the cultivation 
of the human species, is the chief end of the terres- 
trial world, it is obvious that by the mortality of 
its individual members the chief end of the terrestrial 
world is lost, if death is annihilation for them. The 
chief end of the earth is accomplished only in case 
the species called human does not become extinct, 
and moreover the individuals which compose it, not- 



252 IMMORTALITY, 

withstanding their mortahty, are still immortal. And 
if Man is the final end of the whole terrestrial world, 
it certainly follows that Man must continue to exist 
in death. It is thus and thus only that human life 
acquires any value; it is thus and thus only that 
the aspect of the whole terrestrial world acquires 
dignity. The whole terrestrial world would otherwise 
be a mere puppet-show. But if the spirit of Man 
is immortal, the earth has a sublime and essential 
end ; all its admirable arrangements then first ac- 
quire their admirable character ; and we may make 
ourselves easy though mankind does not arrive at 
perfection here, but sometimes keeps advancing and 
at others retrograding. The earth is only the first 
world for Man ; the first mean by which he is to 
arrive at wisdom and virtue. Man himself, as its 
final object, continues to exist; and when he at last 
quits the earth, it ceases indeed to be a mean for 
him ; but he himself, its end, remains, and is fur- 
nished with another mean, that is, he soars to some 
other orb, where higher arrangements are destined 
to conduct him to higher wisdom and virtue. 

This is not merely a bold hypothesis, incapable 
of demonstration, of which Nature herself gives no 
intimation, but the language of the most artless, 
unsophisticated human understanding, every word 
of which is suggested by Nature. But, indeed, 
he who deems nothing worthy of attention but what 
chimes in with his theory, will turn a deaf ear even 
to the voice of Nature herself. 



OR ANNIHILATION. 253 

My meditations on the rational arguments for a 
future state, without any reference to the idea of a 
God, are now completed, and the last evidence has 
in my opinion crowned all the preceding. Either 
every thing which exists and which takes place is 
a mere phantom, a dream, a bubble, or I must con- 
tinue to exist in death. My faith in this is now 
established, and I will seek to render it still more 
immoveable by a review of all the eight arguments 
on which it is founded. This to me so solemn and 
momentous business I will not long defer. The 
weather is still so fine, that to-morrow morning 
shall be devoted to it. And where could this sacred 
act be more appropriately performed than on this 
eminence ? 



254> 



IMMORTALITY. 



TWENTY-FOURTH MEDITATION. 

SUMMARY RECAPITULATION OF ALL THE ARGU- 
MENTS OF REASON IN BEHALF OF A FUTURE 
STATE. 

At this tranquil houTj when all the objects of Na- 
ture, gradually emerging from the shades of night, 
again become visible ; when every thing that lives 
again awakes to life and activity — how delightful it 
is upon this eminence ! It is as though ail Nature 
celebrated with me the most solemn act of my life 
which I am about to perform. Yonder, where the east 
begins to be tinged with red, yonder the magnificent 
luminary of day will presently appear : meanwhile I 
will step behind this rock and give myself up to the 
irresistible force of the collective evidences furnished 
by reason in behalf of a future state. 

" The idea bodi/ does not wholly comprise the idea 
Man ; and it is not absolutely necessary that / should 
perish when my body is dissolved, but it is possible 
that I may continue to exist after death." — Such were 



Oil ANNIIIILATIOX. 255 

the positions with which I set out ; I have demon- 
strated them to myself, and now, 

It is true, that there is no human affliction for 
which there is not also consolation : can it then be, 
that for the idea of death, the severest of mental af- 
flictions — for such it really is notwithstanding the 
boasted indifference with which I at first deluded my- 
self — and for this alone, there is no consolation ? No- 
thing, nothing in the world, is capable of soothing my 
mind in regard to death, but the idea that I shall 
continue to exist in spite of death. 

It is true, that this existence after death appears 
most desirable, and that the more I reflect on it the 
more I long for it. This longing is a real instinct, 
an instinct which awakes within me at the same time 
with reason ; consequently a genuine natural instinct, 
one of the more noble of the natural instincts, nay, 
the very noblest of them all. And shall all my 
other natural instincts be really gratified, and this— 
just this one — which is every thing to me. remain 
ungratified ? 

It is true, that I, as man, am destined to the highest 
possible happiness which this planet affords. To this 
my reason evidently lays on all sides the foundation. 
Instead, however, of making me as happy as possible, 
it makes me as miserable as possible, if death is an- 
nihilation ; for it gives me a foreknowledge of death, 
which incessantly torments and renders me more 
wretched than any brute animal is capable 'of being. 
For this foreknowledge, if I am to enjoy the least 



256 IMMORTALITY, 

happiness, I must be compensated ; and nothing 
can compensate me for it but the foreknowledge, 
on the other hand, that I shall continue to exist in 
death. 

It is true, that I possess far too many faculties and 
powers, and am the most incongruously constituted 
of all beings, if this brief life is my whole destination. 
Very few of my higher faculties attain a considerable 
degree of cultivation ; faculties, of which I am not 
even aware, lie dormant within me ; and the more I 
exercise any of the powers of my mind, the stronger 
it becomes. Here are unbounded, inexhaustible stores 
for me ; what else can they be but intrinsic capabi- 
lities of my nature for everlasting duration? And if, 
in the material world, nothing is, strictly speaking, 
lost, how is it possible that these should be lost ? 

It is true, that I know no greater happiness than 
to perfect myself more and more by means of these 
faculties, and to advance in wisdom and virtue. It 
is the voice of my nature, which cries : Onward and 
onward still ! Here I give to my instinct of perfec- 
tion precisely that direction which is most consonant 
with my higher nature, my moral being. Shall then 
every thing else be in the most beautiful harmony, 
my faculties and powers adapted to immortality, and 
my instinct to cultivate and apply them for ever, and 
shall the main point be wanting ? — shall immortality 
itself be denied me ? For what purpose, then, would 
be these faculties, these powers ? For what purpose 
would be this instinct? Either Man is destined to be 



OR ANNIHILATION. 257 

the most incongruous, the most contradictory of be- 
ings, or he must continue to exist in death. 

It is true, that the mere sense of duty is not capable 
of keeping me virtuous in all the circumstances of 
life. If it shall be capable of doing this, if the con- 
tinual regard to my moral nature shall cause me to 
act under all circumstances in a strictly moral and 
virtuous manner, my moral nature must first acquire 
its true dignity by an everlasting existence. Nothing 
but the hope of a future life supports me in my most 
arduous duties ; and if I am called to perfect virtue, 
T must also be called to immortality. What good 
deed is there in which I am not strengthened by im- 
mortality ? The belief in it is the highest incitement 
to virtue ; I must therefore hold it fast. 

It is true that there must be justice in the moral 
world, and that at present it is not perfectly admi- 
nistered. Let me strive as I will to justify Fate, still 
there are imperfections and deficiencies, great imper- 
fections and deficiencies, in its government. Owing 
to circumstances and the present connexion of things, 
indeed, it cannot be otherwise ; but this ought not to 
affect the everlasting laws of moral beings, the ever- 
lasting laws of a justice which rewards and punishes. 
Unfortunates without number die crying fdf'^ustice, 
and it must be afforded them some time or other. 

It is true, that Man is the final end of the whole 
terrestrial world. What higher end can be conceived 
than He, the sole species of being which not only dis- 
covers order and beauty in the works of Nature, but 



25S IMMORTALITY, 

actually imitates that order and beauty, and, by select~ 
ing and combining the beauties scattered throughout 
Nature, that is to say, by art, frequently surpasses 
his model ? If then Man is the final end of the ter- 
restrial world, he must continue to exist, even though 
he had to suffer a thousand deaths ; foif the final end 
of a world must absolutely be something imperish- 
able, something everlasting ; or a whole world would 
exist for no ultimate purpose, for nothing : and if the 
final ends of the other worlds were in the same pre- 
dicament, the whole universe and the whole scheme of 
existence of all things would be a mere juggle. 

Compressed into this narrow compass, the argu- 
ments of reason in behalf of a future existence for 
Man, possess a force that is irresistibly convincing. 
So I thought, and happily I have not expected too 
much from them. Let me now try to condense them 
still more ! 

If there is no future state for Man, death is anni- 
hilation for him; and he who has consolation for every 
thing else, has not then the slightest comfort for the 
severest of all his afflictions — his natural longing after 
immortality is then a cruel mockery practised upon 
him by his nature— his reason, which teaches him the 
foreknowledge of death, is then the most grievous of 
punishments — his stupendous faculties and powers are 
then the most senselese waste — he is then a fool to 
cultivate and apply them to any other purpose than 
sensual gratifications — every incitement to the noblest 
actions is then done away with— there is then no per- 



OR ANNIHILATION^. 259 

feet administration of justice in the moral world — and 
the earth and every thing in it then exist for no ulti- 
mate end or purpose whatever. 

But if death is not annihilation for Man, if Man con- 
tinues to live after death, he has then for his greatest 
affliction the greatest consolation — his noblest instinct, 
like all his other instincts, is then gratified — reason is 
then the best gift that could be conferred on him — all 
his faculties and powers are then a masterpiece of 
harmony — he is then wise if he diligently cultivates 
and applies them — he has then the strongest induce- 
ment to remain virtuous under all the circumstances 
of life — the most perfect administration of justice in 
the moral world is then to be hoped for — the consti- 
tution of the earth is then the most sublime that can 
be imagined — in short, there is then every where con- 
sistency, whereas otherwise there would be every where 
contradiction ; consistency between the faculties and 
instincts of Man ; consistency in all the arrangements 
made around him for his benefit ; consistency in the 
whole terrestrial world itself ; every where the most 
complete and the most admirable consistency. 

Now my belief in my immortality rests upon a 
foundation against which, according to the expression 
of the great Nazarene, the gates of hell shall not pre- 
vail. Never did I yet feel such happiness as at this 
moment. O glorious and inexpressibly sublime desti- 
nation of Man I Now every thing has for me a 
grander aspect ; every idea assumes a more lofty cha- 
racter. Yes, immortality ! immortality ! it is not till 



260 IMMORTALITY, OR ANNIHILATION. 

he is initiated into the belief in thee that Man be- 
comes truly Man ! 

Ha ! with what majesty thou risest yonder, re- 
splendent source of light! O sun, thou all in all to 
the terrestrial world, thou presentest, as it were^ a 
sensible emblem of my expectations ! As, after the 
past night thou hast brought back day, so after the 
last of my nights, there will again be day, everlasting 
day, and I shall walk in its light to all eternity ! 



LONDON : 
PRINTED BY S. AND R. BENTLEY, DORSET STREET. 











^..# r^^/V^ %^ 






^wy/. >; 









^ 






l.£ ^ ''^^^J J" ^ '^^P^^.r/^ ^ ;^f 




.^^ 






,%^ 4s V:"^^ ^^i':'^^^'-^ 






<H Q, 



^^ ^^^^:j^ "^^ 



^^ ^ 



^^ ^■ 









iS ^. 



^ 



1. ^- -rs 













G^ . 




''^%^=>SV^^<^;» 



^ , Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 

^^l^ Cy Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
. Treatment Date: August 2005 

-^^^^^ ^ <^ PreservationTechnologies ^ 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION f 

1 1 1 Thomson Park Dnve 
Cranberry Township. PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 




y '''-idiiy'^" \ -a r 












<. c:^ 



.>^ 



c^ 






V^ 



rS ^ 






.>^ ^ 













<, 






^^ 



c? 



, ,~^ A^ 



,. i^^^ 






"'^ A^^ 

^^f"^ ^"^ 



V . 






^G 






.r" %. 









^^0,.% 












,G- . ..^'\^ ^ 






^ ^^ 



-\ 






>^^ °- 






*^ °- 



%"'■ 
%. 



/ 



■:/ 



c- 












■0^ 












% 






^m^ 



•& 












^' 



^ °- '. % 




s- <?<. 






%. ■'<f'. 



•.^: 



,cS ^ : ""r^ffiP^ 



:iS ^. 






-0^ 















